A Whole New World
by Elissaria
Summary: SI-Self Insert story. Whatever it was, Buddha, God, or some crazy random happenstance, I've been reborn into the Harry Potter universe. Now I, a native Texan and proud American, am going to Hogwarts in the same year as Harry Potter and the other characters I'd read about before my rebirth. Maybe I can get out of this without getting involved in crazy, then again, maybe not.
1. Chapter 1

**{A/N} This is a self-insert story. What author doesn't have one when they write fanfiction? Any feedback is quite appreciative, as well as constructive criticism. It has been a long time since I've written, and this story does not have a beta, therefore there may be some grammatical mistakes. I've edited as best I can but an author can't catch every mistake they've made, so if anyone wants to point something out I'd appreciate it. I do curse like a sailor in my internal monologue, so I'm sorry if this annoys or insults someone, but it's how I think as a person, therefore it's how I"ll be writing myself as a character. Obligatory, J.K. Rowling owns Harry Potter and the Potterverse. I don't own anything except myself, and I'd sell my soul for a chance to meet Jim Butcher, my idol.**

* * *

Darkness is a radical concept. I've never been able to achieve true darkness when trying to fall asleep. Living in a converted basement would sound conducive to that but even with blackout curtains on the door out to the storage room, there's always just that tiny sliver of light. The lights on my computer might flicker even though I turned it off or the hallway light might be on outside the door to my bedroom. My point is, there's always something keeping me from achieving a true darkness, and now that I'm experiencing one, it's pretty radical.

Of course, being dead and all, I should have expected it. I know it's surprising, such a swell young guy like me just up and dying, right? One minute I'm driving down the road on my way to meet up with some friends for a drink and the next there's a car slamming into the driver's side door of my pickup truck. I lived past the initial impact but there was something wrong with my back and I couldn't feel a damn thing below my chest. I was pretty woozy when the paramedics got there and heard something about internal bleeding but by that time I'd decided to say screw it pass out and let the paramedics do their damn job. The problem was, I don't think I woke up.

Sure I mean, I've got some type of consciousness now but it's like in the Metallica song One, no sight, no sound, no feeling. Nothing. This is pretty much what I figured death would be like, except without the consciousness part. I was only an occasional church-goer after I turned 16 and my parents couldn't make me go anymore, so I figured God and I weren't as cool with each other as we could have been. I'd like to say that I lived a decent life with minimal lying, stealing, cheating, and other various and sundry things, but really, I was only 22 when I died and hadn't had long to make up for the follies of youth.

Whilst pondering whether I was in Hell, Heaven, or some other transitory place, for an immeasurable amount of time I began to notice a beat. It was a bit like laying your head against someone's chest and listening to their heart beat, but in surround sound, and without the steady beat. Not really the best metaphor I've ever made, but you get the picture. This one came faintly at first, and there was so long between beats that I didn't really notice anything at first, but soon it picked up and the frequency became shorter and the all encompassing darkness began to writhe and beat faster. At this point I was shitting my metaphorical pants and trying to exert my will on my environment with absolutely no success. And then I was moving, and let me tell you that in hindsight it should have been obvious, but thinking about my second birth still makes me queasy.

I could finally hear again, and feel, and feel I did. The air was rough like it never had been on my skin and I was sore all over, and it was freezing cold and so, giving into my body's instincts I cried and whimpered until something warm and soft was wrapped around me. My eyelids were thin and I could tell that there was an intensely bright light on so I kept them shut as I was passed around. It was only when the light had dimmed a bit that I cracked my eyes open, and wasn't that an ordeal because my eyelids did not want to obey my commands, and took a good look around.

Indistinct blurs greeted my newly opened eyes, something I was familiar with due to my poor vision before I died, and I couldn't make anything out until someone pulled me very close to to themselves and blue eyes filled my vision. A soft, maternal voice cooed from very near me, "Hello Michael, I'm very happy to meet you."

* * *

Let me tell you, being a baby is a pretty boring existence, especially if you have the mind of a 22 year old man. Most days I just lounged around and everything was pretty much a blur. Of course that did give me a lot of time to have an existential crisis. When I finally figured out that I had been reborn, I freaked the fuck out. My parents must have thought I had a terrible disease because I screamed and shouted my head off for three days straight. Once I'd calmed down, and given my poor new parents some rest, I lay there in my tiny baby body with my metaphorical jaw wide open as I considered that damn, Buddha had it spot on. At least, I was fairly sure that Buddha was spot on because he's the only guy I thought of when I considered reincarnation. There was also something about the caste system in India but I'd written that off years ago, in a sense, as ridiculous. I was beginning to rethink that.

It took me a while because I had to wait for my hearing and eyesight to get a bit better and because I freaking had to listen to my parents actually talk, not talk to me in baby talk, but I finally figured out who and where the hell I was. My name is now Michael Cooper, firstborn to Terry and Kathy Cooper. I was born on July 29th, 1980. We live in Austin, Texas where my new father works as an engineer at an oil and gas company, and my new mother works as an elementary school teacher. They'd apparently been high school sweethearts who went to college together and got married straight after, having me barely a year after the wedding.

My father apparently had a very cushy job because from what I could see from being carried around the house it was brand new my parents owned it. It was spacious, but not overly so for a new family just starting out with two stories and three bedrooms. I didn't see father that often in the beginning, probably because he had to work hard to keep up with a new house and a new baby so I spent most of my time with my mother. Kathy Cooper was pretty in the girl-next-door kind of way, like so many others in Texas. Tall, blond haired and blue eyed, curvy in all the right places, she was probably a cheerleader in high school. (I later found out that yes, she was.) Dad was also quite tall, well muscled, but with the beginnings of a gut that suggested he'd spent more time inside than out since high school, probably from getting his engineering degree. He had dark hair, dark eyes, and a deep voice that was pleasantly soothing to my small ears whenever I felt like a nap.

Growing up again kind of sucked because it wouldn't be until high school that I would get started on my do-over. Before I was reincarnated I had never been a great student. Solid B's and C's through high school and college and a fairly useless history degree. This time around I was savoring the chance to improve my grades, because who doesn't want to go back in time and tell themselves as a kid that they need to get their rear in gear and study hard. I'd also come to the conclusion that a higher power had allowed me to keep my memories through my reincarnation, it could have been a crazy random happenstance but better safe than sorry, and I didn't want to piss it off by wasting my second chance. Of course, I'd gone through in the 2000's and the 2010's and now I'd been reincarnated in the 1980's. My mind was awhirl with all of the things I could do and see that I'd been too young for while growing up the first time.

But that was all in the future. I had to make it through elementary school first. That was a bitch. I didn't want to make an early reputation as a genius, because I wasn't. Originally I had been a very bright child, elementary school had been a time of rapid learning and a burgeoning understanding of the world. In middle school I discovered video games and the television and lost all drive. I squandered my potential the first time around and was damned if I would do it again. Even with my reincarnation I would never be a genius, but I was still quite smart, and would work to live up to it this time around. That didn't help the frustration I felt at my little six year old peers. They just weren't on the same level as I was mentally and were content to color cows and pigs with their crayola crayons. I'll be damned if I have to color more than a single page full of barnyard animals!

I developed a reputation as a solitary child, content with his books that were not quite first grade material, but probably wouldn't get me in trouble in the skipping grades department. I was labelled a precocious child, pleasant and polite, but distant from the other children in my classroom. My mother was a real saint. She was truly kind and caring and provided a warm loving home that I could relax in. We played games and read books together, and really I turned into a complete mama's boy. The first time I grew up my parents worked all day, we were upper middle class and my parents had good jobs but they just weren't around a huge amount. Some of the 1950's attitude still pervaded American culture that women were the homemakers and my mom made a good one. It was nice to act like a kid.

When I turned seven I thought it was high time I learned an instrument. Previously I was a singer, but never had any formal training beyond high school choir. I had a pretty damn good voice if I wanted to brag, but always regretted never learning an instrument, or really how to read music at all. So I badgered my parents into getting me violin and piano lessons. Piano because I had always found it soothing, and because it gave me a foundation in musical theory that I hadn't had before, and violin because there was some very sexy violin music out there and I really wanted to be able to play it for myself. Instruments were something new, and I relished the challenge. I wasn't good at it immediately, and felt the familiar thrill of accomplishment whenever I learned something new or played something that didn't sound like a dead chicken. Life was looking up.

Then there was the big move. When I was eight my dad took a big managerial position in a new office his company was opening in England and we moved across the pond. Now Britain was very different from Texas, it was very different from the good 'ole South where I'd lived both of my combined lives. They had Primary School, not Elementary School, and schooling was very different. I hesitate to say better, but to each their own. Going to school as the lone yank was amusing, because I affected a slow, southern drawl and cackled in my head as the kids around me tried to figure out what I was saying. I had to find my amusement somewhere in London, because I really missed hot Texas summers and mild winters. It rained all the time in Britain, and especially London, and the gloomy weather was a constant downer.

Life was pretty mundane. Dad worked, mom stayed at home and took care of the house because dad made a lot of money now and she was accredited as a teacher in the United States, not Britain. That's not to say she did nothing. She volunteered at an organization for Americans living in Britain and organized events to give children of American expats a taste of home. I kept on practicing the Violin and Piano and finally got my hands on an honest to god set of J.R.R. Tolkien's finest. High fantasy had been my preferred genre in my last life and I was so happy to get the grandfather of it all that I didn't care if it looked weird for a 10 year old to be plowing through the admittedly dense books. Then I turned eleven.

Now, eleven isn't normally a turning point in anybody's life. But in a small percentage of people's lives it is and apparently I was one of them… this time around. July 29th, 1991 was a very nice day. It was a Monday so that meant my father had to work, but my mother stayed home with me. I treated her to a mini concert with my violin and the small piano they had bought for me when we moved to England, and she treated me to ice cream and a walk about central London. Even after three years we looked at London through the eyes of a tourist and wandering around was a great family pastime. I took some of our precious long distance minutes to call my Grandparents back in Texas, and Grandpa Cooper and I had a serious talk about our beloved Dallas Cowboys chances at a super bowl that season. Grandpa Cooper was a good ole' Southern boy and we didn't have much in common but we could bond over football and that's where we did. I like British football just fine, but I missed the hell out of Sunday afternoons cheering on the Cowboys with my dad and Grandpa Cooper.

When Dad got home Mom made me my favorite dinner, fried chicken with mustard greens and some honest to god American biscuits. Only a southern woman could cook something like that and hot damn am I glad that I was reincarnated back into the good ole' south. We might have a lot of problems, racism, sexism, every sort of ism you can think of really, but nobody can deny that the best food in the world is some down home Southern cooking. Southern cooking is also one of the reasons us southern men die so early, heart attacks are no joke. I knew that I wasn't going to be in danger of that as much as I had in my previous life. Before reincarnating I had the heart attack gene from both sides of my family. I looked exactly like my Grandfather who had died in his forties after his third heart attack. Of course, being a hard drinker and smoker will do that to you. Now, my family was quite healthy with a good medical history, and my body was much more predisposed to be athletic. High School the first time was rough because when I went out for sports I had to really work, getting into shape was damn difficult and I never really could keep up with most of the other guys. This body was genetically predisposed to be athletic. I took after my mother, blonde hair, blue eyes, and at eleven years old I was 5'0'' on the dot. I could feel it in my bones that when I got older I'd have to work at it, but getting in shape and staying there would be easy for me.

After dinner at around 6:30 my family retreated to the living room as was our habit. My father poured himself two fingers of whiskey and sat down to watch the news. Mom settled on the couch next to dad and pulled out a notepad and paper and started planning her next event for the expat organization. And I pulled out The Two Towers and sank into the nice new cushy armchair that my parents had gotten me for my birthday. It might have been a bit expensive, but the sentiment behind it made me smile. They wanted me around, even when I was off in my own world reading a book, so that we could still be a family together. That was when my excellent day was interrupted by a knock on our door.

Both my parents looked confused before mom looked at me and asked, "Michael, did you invite any of your friends over and forget to tell us?"

I shrugged, "No, and I doubt any of them would just come over randomly. I don't think they even know where we live."

A second knock, no more or less firm than the first, rang through the living room and my father hurried to get up and get the door. My chair was out of the sightline of the open door and I could hear my dad talking to a woman on the porch, but couldn't really make out what they were saying. I waited patiently and wracked my mind for the answer to who could be at the door. At home in Texas it could have been anyone from Jehovah's Witness's to Dad's work friends making a surprise visit. Before I could form a funny picture of British Jehovah's Witness, dad led an elderly woman woman dressed in a strict business skirt and jacket, with her hair in a tight bun of grey. I quickly stood up and, seeing that she had business here and would probably be staying for a discussion, offered her my chair. She took it graciously with a smile and a "Thank you, young man."

I went over to the couch and sat with my mother while my father offered the woman a drink, which she declined. He then turned to us with a smile, "Michael, Kathy, this is Professor McGonagall, and she's come to offer Michael a place at her school."

My mind froze, and then in a haze of adrenaline, ran through a great many facts in a very short amount of time. Professor McGonagall worked at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Professor McGonagall was a fictional character in the Harry Potter books that I had read and loved as a teenager. I was not a wizard. This was a mindfuck.

Outwardly, I nodded calmly and said, "My scores aren't spectacular and it's not like I'm a prodigy in anything, why would a school come recruiting me?"

My father looked at the professor with a questioning gaze and she smiled gently before answering, "We do not look at your scores per se, we only take a certain type of person at our school, and you certainly fit the profile."

Well, that was blatantly false. I don't believe I had ever exhibited any signs of accidental magic, even when I was an infant, and I remembered most of those times, if only because they were incredibly boring. I gazed at her quizzically and she pulled a letter out of her purse and handed it to me saying, "This should answer some of your questions."

The letter had my name, address, and what room I lived in on the front and was sealed in wax, with a crest I couldn't quite make out. I glanced dubiously at her and my parents, who both gave me encouraging nods, before opening the letter. It read exactly like the acceptance letters in the books and when I was through going over the entire thing I said, "I like practical jokes as much as the next person, but this really is too much."

I passed the letter to my mother and watched the Professor as my mother and then my father read it. Both had confused looks on their faces and my father burst out when he was done, "What in god's name is this? Witchcraft and wizardry? That's not real."

Professor McGonagall smiled and asked, "I assure you, magic is quite real. Have there ever been any strange occurrences around Michael that you couldn't explain?"

My parents looked at each other and shrugged before my dad replied, "Not a one."

The Professor nodded, "It could have occurred as a toddler, perhaps in a time of great emotion. Accidental magic is driven by emotions and is most volatile before the age of six."

My mother smiled and replied, "Michael has always had a very good temper. He's very reserved, and the only time he's come close to throwing a tantrum was when he wanted music lessons and we caved to that pretty quickly."

McGonagall was beginning to frown so I put my two cents in, "I'm still stuck on the magic part of all this. Could you give us a demonstration that magic is real, before we try and figure out if I am actually magical."

Professor McGonagall looked at both my parents and after they gave their assent she stood up and fluidly pulled a length of wood, a wand, out of her jacket pocket. With a wave she turned my nice new armchair into a straight backed wooden chair. Another small flick produced a thin cushion that she placed on it before sitting back down, her posture quite the same. My parents were gaping but I crossed my arms thoughtfully, "I hope you'll be able to change that back, because it's new, and I really like it."

She favored me with a smile and said, "Of course. Now perhaps you could tell me if you've ever done any accidental magic young man. I'm sure your parents were not always with you."

I shrugged, "Nope. No levitating objects, no bolts of lightning, no disappearing broccoli. I got gypped."

Dad snorted and mom flicked my arm, "Don't be rude Michael." she admonished.

I couldn't help the whiny note that slithered into my voice, "Well, I haven't done any accidental magic. Maybe she got the wrong house."

Professor McGonagall cleared her throat and we all looked at her, "I'm quite certain that this is the house. You are actually the first American that has been accepted to Hogwarts. You are what we call a muggleborn, that is you have two non-magical parents, or muggles as we call them. When accidental magic is detected in a non-magical household their name is automatically entered into the Book of Names at Hogwarts. Normally this occurs between the ages of two and five. You are quite the different case however. Your name was only entered roughly three years ago."

I interrupted to say, "That's when we moved here from America."

She looked slightly put out at the interruption but moved on, "Quite. Now, after doing some research about your family I contacted my colleagues in America and after some discussion decided that if you were to make permanent residence in Britain that Hogwarts would approach you at the appropriate age."

It was my mother who interrupted this time, "Wait, there are wizards in America too?"

McGonagall nodded, "Oh yes. The most prominent school there is the Ilvermorny school for Witchcraft and Wizardry. It was their Deputy Headmaster that I contacted and we came to this decision jointly."

I couldn't help myself, "This still doesn't mean that I'm magical. I haven't done any of this accidental magic you were talking about. All of this is a moot point if I can't do magic."

McGonagall seemed to be getting impatient with my impertinence but asked, "Sometimes it can be quite subtle. Were you ever sick as a child? Did you ever have any broken bones that healed faster than they should have?"

I shrugged and looked at my parents while saying, "Not as far as I can recall. I've never broken any bones or been sick. Any bruises I get go away pretty quickly, but other than that I can't think of anything."

My dad also shrugged, "We thought he had contracted something just after he was born but we never did find out what was wrong with him. He screamed and cried for three days or so but got better all at once."

I inwardly smirked, looking back my existential crisis must have been a tough time for my parents. McGonagall frowned, and hesitated a moment before saying, "The Book of Names is never wrong. You, Michael Cooper, are magical."

I smirked outwardly this time, "It would be embarrassing if it was wrong though. What would happen if it was wrong?"

I already knew the answer but I wanted her to say it. She sighed before saying, "In 1692 the International Statute of Secrecy was signed by the magical nations of the world, and we separated ourselves from muggle society. If it turned out that you were in fact a muggle, Michael, then I would be obliged to call in the Obliviators and have the memory of this visit removed."

My father stood up and said angrily, "That sounds dangerous, and not something I would want performed on my family."

McGonagall weathered his anger admirably, "Mr. Cooper, it is an entirely safe process. It is the basic tenet of wizarding society that we must be kept hidden from muggle society at all costs. Obliviators regularly remove memories of the wizarding world from muggles and there are no harmful effects. It will not come to that though, because I am sure your son is magical."

I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees and my chin in my hands, "Prove it, please."

She sighed again, probably because she wasn't used to dealing with such obstreperous muggleborn, and leant forward to gingerly place her wand on the coffee table between us, "The wand is the tool with which almost all magic is made. Each wizard or witch has their own wand that is attuned to them, and through which they will work their best magic. Another wizard could use my wand but they would never achieve the same results as with their own. Please be careful with mine, but I would like you to pick it up and see if you feel anything."

Instinctively knowing the magnitude of such a gesture, I hesitantly reached forward and gently picked it up. It was warm to the touch, whether from being in her pocket or her hand, or from something else. After a moment though that something else began to look more likely because it pulled on something deep within me. A roiling mass of _something_ that I could reach for but never quite get. Seeing the shock on my face Professor McGonagall smiled and gestured, "Go on, give it a wave."

In almost a trance I did, and was rewarded with an exploding book. My copy of the Two Towers, which I had set on the coffee table, exploded in a cloud of paper. I gaped at it and then looked at my parents with wide eyes. They were having a similar reaction, and I was glad that they weren't hyperventilating. I looked back at McGonagall, who had almost a smug look on her face, and asked her, "Erm. Could you fix my book please."

I held her wand back out to her and she took it, fixing my book with a quick wave, and we all sat back down to take stock of the situation. It went pretty quickly after that and after finalizing the details, she would be back to take us to Diagon Alley in a week, she left.

By mutual unspoken agreement we all sat back down in the living room for a family discussion. I sat back in my newly untransfigured armchair and my parents sat back on the couch and we all took a minute to gain our composure back after having our minds blown. I broke the silence first, "I want to go."

My dad winced, "Now Michael, I know that this is new and exciting but I think we should talk about it first."

I shrugged, "What's there to talk about. This is a once in a lifetime thing and I want to do it. Magic, Dad. Think of all the things I could do! I could… I could…. I Could make the piano play along with my while playing my Violin!"

My mom snorted with suppressed laughter but Dad cut in, "I'm sure there were things she wasn't telling us. Those obliviators sounded like bad news."

I couldn't help but laugh, "Yeah, but it does make sense. People would go crazy if they knew that magic was real."

Dad snorted, "Yeah, like we're not all going crazy here."

I leaned forward excitedly to make my point, "Exactly! This, statute of secrecy thing is probably a good thing for both worlds. Magical and non-magical. But my point is, I want to go."

Mom chipped in, surprising me, "Terry I think we should let him."

We both looked at her in surprise, "Really?"

She smiled at our flabbergasted faces, "Of course. He's never been challenged in school. Don't give me that face Michael, I know that you're much more advanced than the curriculum and I've never pushed you because you never seemed to want to be pushed. I think this could be good for him, make him work and come out of his shell. Plus, if he goes away to boarding school he'll have to make friends."

She grinned wickedly at me and I pouted. Yes, I, a 22 year old man in an 11 year old's body, pouted at my mother. With my mother's opinion in the ring I stood up and quickly shouted, "Family vote! I get one vote, and both of you get two. Me and mom make it 3 to 2. You lose dad, I get to go to Hogwarts!"

I childishly stuck my tongue out at him and ran upstairs, making sure to take my book with me, and leaving it to mom to do the rest of the convincing.

* * *

A week passed and on the day McGonagall had said she was returning I was bouncing at the door, ready to go. Dad was still slightly disgruntled, I think his dream of me following in his footsteps as an engineer was crashing down around him, but mom looked just as excited as I was. At 9 A.M. on the dot, there was a knock on our door. I was already there but I waited a few moments, to make it seem like I wasn't about to explode with excitement, and then opened the door, stepping out of the way and inviting the good Professor inside, "Good morning Ma'am. Please come in."

She stepped inside and favored me with a smile, "Thank you, Mr. Cooper. Is your family ready to go?"

I nodded politely and a moment later my mom and dad appeared, and we quickly exited the house. Professor McGonagall gave us the address to the Leaky Cauldron, the wizarding inn that was the entrance to Diagon Alley, and told us she would meet us there. She seemed reluctant to get into my dad's car and so we drove off, leaving her standing on the sidewalk. Charing Cross road was halfway across London for us so it took half an hour to get there and find parking. We walked down Charing Cross road and my parents couldn't see it, but I could. Tucked away in a corner with a small sign I could see the wooden door that led to the wizarding world. I grabbed my mom's hand, (No, I have not forgotten the fact that I'm actually a 22 year old man, but when you've been acting like a kid it kind of becomes a habit), and dragged her towards it.

Both my parents looked dubious but I dragged them inside and got my first real taste of the wizarding world. From what I remembered of the books, the Leaky Cauldron was always described as dingy and smoke filled, and it was to a point. It was also spacious, and if there was smoke coiling around the room it didn't smell like it, it rather smelled like delicious food. We saw Professor McGonagall sitting at the bar talking to Tom but when we entered she saw us, bid farewell to the barman, and came over to us. My dad was about to ask how she had gotten here before us but I knew what he was going to say so I elbowed him in the side and whispered, "Magic!"

He rolled his eyes but didn't ask, and the Professor led us through the pub, and into the attached courtyard. My parents looked confused but I watched with hungry eyes as Professor McGonagall walked over to the brick wall and started to tap it with her wand. When she finished the sequence of taps and stepped back, the bricks began to writhe and move and soon there was a doorway to another world in front of us. The Professor had a mysterious smile on her face, one that suggested she enjoyed the look of wonder on new Muggleborns faces when shown the alley, and said, "Welcome to Diagon Alley."

It was a whirlwind of new experiences and sights after that. First was Gringotts. Let me tell you, those Goblins have a mean glare. My dad grumbled at the exchange rate but we got the appropriate amount of galleons, (Professor McGonagall informed us of what everything on the list would cost, roughly), and set off on a magical shopping spree. I was like a kid in a candy store, each and every shop we went in was fascinating. I got a uniform, robes, a cauldron, a telescope, scales, it was all so fascinating. The bookstore was filled with people, but all of the books I needed were in the same section so I scooped them up and my father quickly paid for them and off we went.

The last place we went was Ollivander's and I was so close to exploding that I was visibly shaking. It was only my mom's calming hand on my shoulder that stopped me from tearing off down the alley. I could have sworn there was a smirk on McGonagall's face as she led us to Ollivander's, but politely declined to come inside because as she put it, "Choosing one's wand is a personal experience, I shall wait here until you are finished."

I shrugged and gave her a polite smile and then went inside, my parents following after me. There were few lights on, most of the light was natural, coming in through the windows, and there was a very old man sitting at the counter. Each wall was covered in shelves that looked to groan under the weight of hundreds of long, thin boxes. As I took this in the man at the counter stood up and greeted us, "Good morning, I am Garrick Ollivander, and you must be here for a wand."

I nodded excitedly and stepped forward with my hand out and we shook, "I'm Michael Cooper."

His eyes sparkled and his smile grew wider, "Muggleborn?"

"Yes, sir."

He sized me up for a moment before pulling out a tape measure, "What is your wand arm, young sir."

I held up my right arm and he leaned forward to measure my arm, but when he was done he let it go and it just kept right on going. Snaking over my body and measuring various parts of it. While it was doing that, and my parents wide eyes were on it, he started speaking, "It's really the wand that chooses the wizard, Mr. Cooper. Each wand in my shop uses one of three cores, the hair of a Unicorn, the heartstrings of a Dragon, or the tail-feather of a Phoenix. Each wand has a different wood and length too it, and each wand is different. No two are alike."

Almost as he was done speaking the tape measure dropped away from me, Mr. Ollivander didn't even glance at it, and there was suddenly a box in front of me, "Blackthorn with Unicorn Hair, ten and a half inches, brittle."

I picked up the wand and felt a warm rush fill me, but when I waved it a small filing cabinet behind the counter sprang open and papers flew out. I glanced at Ollivander but he had already taken the wand out of my hand and was at another shelf, muttering to himself. He was back only moments later with another box, "Aspen and Phoenix feather, twelve and a quarter inches, with a slight spring in it."

I took the wand and waved it in, what I thought, magnanimous fashion. Black smoke poured out of it but before it could cloud up the shop the wand was out of my hand and back on the shelf. Ollivander hurried into the back and I looked back at my parents who were watching me with bemused smiles. I shrugged and my mom let out a small giggle that might have had a tinge of hysteria to it. Ollivander quickly hurried back and presented me with another box saying, "This one is Yew, with a core of Dragon heartstring. Thirteen Inches and rigid."

I took hold of it and the roiling mass of _something_ that I'd felt upon grabbing McGonagall's wand was there all over again. This time though I could reach out and grab it, and it roared through me, suffusing my body with warmth. I could feel it go down my arm and through the wand and the wand, my wand, emitted green and gold sparks. They cascaded down around me and I stood there stock still with a stupid smile on my face as Ollivander clapped his hands saying, "Bravo. It seems we have found you quite a match, Mr. Cooper."

I grinned as I carefully set my wand back down in the box and took it from his hands. He began to talk about my wand, "Yew is a curious wood, a symbol of life, death, and rebirth."

I nodded sagely, "The circle of life."

Ollivander looked pleased with my comments and his smile widened, "Yes. Exactly. The combination of Yew and Dragon Heartstring is a powerful one. Yes, and thirteen is quite a powerful number, magically speaking. I believe we shall see great things from you and your wand Mr. Cooper."

I grinned and shook his hand again as he said, "That will be 7 galleons, Mr. Cooper."

My father came forward to pay and also shook Mr. Ollivanders hand and then we left. Mom and Dad carried most of my packages while I cradled the box that held my new wand in my hands. Professor McGonagall smiled when she saw me and said, "I believe that is the last of it."

I nodded vigorously and I could hear my dad heave a sigh of relief. We followed McGonagall back to the Leaky Cauldron and it was there that we parted. She gave me my ticket to the Hogwarts Express, along with instructions about how to get onto the platform, and a pamphlet that is given to all muggleborns detailing important aspects of the Ministry of Magic and Hogwarts.

August passed quickly and when September 1st rolled around I practically had to drag my parents out of bed and into the car. Dad grumbled, "It's like Christmas morning, except it's us that have to drag you out of bed."

I shrugged and flew around the house in a whirlwind, grabbing my trunk and running out to the car as fast as my short legs would carry me. I'd had everything packed for a week and my impatience knew no bounds. It was only 10 o'clock when we pulled into King's Cross station. Dad grabbed a trolley and put my trunk onto it and I held mom's hand as we walked into the train station. My parents were dubious about walking into the pillar between platforms 9 and 10 but it only took a little persuading on my part and we were soon staring in awe at the Hogwart's Express. The platform wasn't full yet, it still being an hour before the train left, but there were still a good amount of people getting on and off the train and milling around the platform. Robes and pointy hats mixed with more normal clothes and swirled around each other.

I turned and hugged my mom saying, "I'm going to miss y'all."

Boarding school had not been an experience I'd had in either life. College the first time had been a bit like that, but I'd been able to go home anytime I felt homesick. At Hogwarts I'd be stuck there until Christmas. My dad chuckled, "Better watch the accent son."

I flushed. I only affected a southern drawl to screw with the kids at school, most of the time I spoke normally, albeit without the British accent. It did however, come out sometimes when I didn't mean it to. This time though I grinned at him and drawled out, "Don't worry Pa, I'll show these Brits how a southern man does it."

He ruffled my hair and said, "That's my boy."

I turned back to mom and she leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of my head, "We'll miss you too Michael. Write us lots of letters. I won't believe that owls carry wizarding letters until I see one with yours."

I grinned and hugged her again, "Definitely."

In short order I had packed my trunk onto the train and into a compartment and my parents had left. As I sat in the compartment by myself I bounced up and down excitedly. As a kid the first time around I'd always wanted a Hogwarts letter, and now I'd gotten one.

Then it hit me.

Harry Potter went to Hogwarts in 1991.

I was going to Hogwarts in 1991.

Tons of crazy things including a wizarding civil war had happened while Harry was at school, and now I would be there with him.

I felt so stupid at not thinking about it before. I must have been caught up in it all, the magic, the possibilities, a whole new world.

I was suddenly reminded of the fanfiction that I had read in my past life. Didn't this happen in a lot of those stories?

I sat in the compartment and had an internal panic attack for five minutes, followed by another ten of furious thinking. It all culminated in a sigh before I muttered to myself, "I am so fucked."


	2. Chapter 2

**The second chapter of A Whole New World. I hope everyone enjoys it. I did take a few portions of dialogue straight from Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone but we all know it belongs to J.K. Rowling. Please review because I'm a review whore that likes to know what my readers think of my writing, good or bad.**

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Foreknowledge is a dangerous thing. I could probably walk around Platform 9 & ¾ and tell people exactly how they were going to die in the next seven or so years. Fortunately I subdued that crazy impulse and instead sat back in the surprisingly comfortable bench seats on the Hogwarts express and tried to work out a plan. Something that didn't involve me and the Department of Mysteries becoming more closely acquainted.

I had a few options. One, I could keep my head down and let things run their course. It all turned out for the better in the end, even with the near genocide of muggleborns and other various and sundry magicals. Ah, the flaw in that plan, genocide. Two, I could play god and attempt to influence events in a way that would work out for the best. This was dangerous because my plans always had a fatal flaw or two in them. I've always been one to plan extensively, but most of the time I'll miss something crucial that will completely throw my plan out of whack. Three, and this was what I was leaning towards, I could let major events run their course, the Philosopher's Stone, the Chamber of Secrets, Voldemort's rebirth, but I could subtly influence _Harry_ , in a way that would make all of that easier to deal with.

I already knew that most of my attempts to influence Harry would be unsuccessful. He'd always had a very strong will and with his saving people thing, shit was going to go down whether I wanted it to or not. However, if I were to befriend him and apply my adult mind and foreknowledge to the situation, maybe he wouldn't spend so much time in the hospital wing or detention. And maybe, just maybe, magical Britain could avoid some of the bloodbath that was Voldemort's second rise.

With that in mind quickly changed into my new uniform, I wouldn't want to have try and change with other people in the room, it would be cramped, or wait outside as girls changed. Then, I pulled out my copy of _Magical Drafts and Potions_ and settled in to wait. I knew that this was probably the only book where reading ahead would do me much good. I've always been able to learn best through lecture and discussion, so I would wait on classes like Transfiguration and Charms. However, potions was a different matter altogether. If I could memorize the various ways to prepare ingredients and their reactions to each other, something that I don't think Harry did, I might be able to slide beneath Snape's radar while in class.

I'm really of two minds about Snape. On one hand, many people believe that he's a deeply flawed man whose grief has turned him bitter, but that his love for the late Lily Potter is enough for redemption in their eyes. On the other hand, I say he's a deeply flawed man whose grief has turned him bitter, and that he is an asshole who needs to chill the fuck out. Taking out one's impotent rage on children is something no one should do, so as of right now, I have zero respect for the man. Now, that may change depending on how he actually acts. All of my opinions right now are being formed from what I've read in the books.

The train began to fill up quickly, and I could see many people moving past through the windows on the sliding door. Excited chatter drifted in but I ignored it in favor of my book and checking the large clock on one of the pillars on the platform that I could see out the window. Eleven o'clock came and with a great cheer the Hogwarts Express chugged out of the station. I was actually a bit surprised that nobody had come sit with me. As soon as the thought crossed my mind though, the door to my compartment opened and a brunette stuck her head inside to ask, "Is there anyone else sitting in here?"

I shrugged and said, "Nope."

The head retreated and I could see an arm waving, a few moments later the head returned, this time attached to the body of a small girl, followed by another small girl, this one with blonde hair. The two were already dressed as well, though they were both wearing robes with the uniform. Both were dragging trunks and I quickly jumped up to help them put the trunks into the luggage rack above us. It was the gentlemanly thing to do. Both of them were a bit shorter than me, though not by much. The brunette smiled and said, "Thanks. Some jerks came and kicked us out of the compartment we were in. They said it was their special one or something. We've been lugging those around for ages but everywhere else is full."

I smiled and replied, "Their loss is my gain. I'm Michael Cooper."

I stuck out my hand for a handshake and they kind of looked at it before glancing at each other and bursting into giggles. I slowly drew my hand back and then held it up in my face, making a show of inspecting it, "Well, it's not grossly deformed and I don't _think_ that there's anything wrong with it."

The brunette shook her head, trying to stifle her laughter, "Don't you know anything? You're not supposed to shake hands with a lady, you kiss the back of her hand."

I looked at them nonplussed, "Right. Well. Since I already messed up why don't you just tell me your names."

The one who'd done all the speaking so far said, "I'm Tracey Davis, and this is my friend Daphne Greengrass."

The blonde, who I now knew was Daphne Greengrass, just looked at me imperiously, although I could see the hint of a smirk as she tried to repress the giggles from early. I was about to reply when Tracey blurted out, "You talk funny. Where are you from?"

I quirked my eyebrow at them. (Side note, It took me two years of practicing in the mirror for me to be able to lift one eyebrow but not the other.) Slowly I drawled out, "Well. I'm definitely not from around these parts. I'm from across the pond, the United States."

Both of their eyes bugged out and Tracey said excitedly, "Really? I didn't know Americans could come to Hogwarts!"

I sat down, and they followed suit, before I replied with a shrug, "My family moved here a few years ago from Texas. Dad got a big promotion and helped open up a new office for his company over here. We didn't know anything about magic at all so it was pretty surprising when Professor McGonagall showed up on our doorstep. She said that I would have gone to the American school but since I'm living in Britain on a permanent basis then I could go to Hogwarts."

I knew I was laying it on a bit thick and baiting them, but really, I needed to find out about pureblood supremacy from some minor characters who I knew for a fact were in Slytherin, but didn't pop up in the books. Since I already had plans to influence Harry maybe I could tack on a plan to influence some of the other Slytherin characters that weren't little shitheads like Malfoy. I cackled in my head a little bit.

Daphne was starting to look a bit dubious but Tracey continued on gamely, "So you're a muggleborn then?"

I nodded, "Yep. I guess y'all grew up knowing about magic, right?"

She grinned, "Oh yes. We grew up knowing all about magic."

Tracey started chattering on about magical households and how great they were and I listened, but kept a surreptitious eye on Daphne. She was resolutely staring out the window, not quite ignoring the conversation, but certainly ignoring me. When Tracey paused to take a breath I leaned slightly away from Daphne, who I was sitting nearly opposite of, held a hand to one side of my mouth, and stage whispered, "So, does your friend talk or is she the strong silent type?"

Daphne's head whipped around and a glare that could melt steel beams was aimed in my direction. On the other hand, Tracey started to stutter, "Well, ah, um…"

I continued blithely, "Do British wizards have a problem with American wizards?"

Tracey opened her mouth to say something but was interrupted by Daphne. Her voice, which was high and melodic, could only be described as… posh, "You are beneath me. There is no need for me to deign to speak with you."

There is was. Out in the open. I played coy and directed my next question towards her, "Oh? And why is that?"

"As a Pureblood I am naturally better than you, a muggleborn. Therefore, I do not need to speak to you because you are unimportant."

I nodded my head sagely, "Ah, I see. We had the same problem back in the United States."

Both of their eyes widened in curiosity and I had to hold back a grin as I started to lecture, "It's a really long story, but the short of it is that white people in the United States really didn't like black people for a long time and made a bunch of laws that segregated them and were really prejudiced. Eventually the black people got tired of it and they started staging peaceful protests led by the Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. He made some very inspirational speeches and the white people that were in power decided that they were wrong and repealed all of the prejudiced laws and passed laws protecting civil rights. There are still many racists, especially in the South, but now the law is on the black peoples sides."

They were enraptured by my third grade level retelling of the Civil Rights movement, so I kept with it, "So what I'm seeing here, is that the purebloods are like the white people, and the muggleborns are like the black people. You're prejudiced against us and I bet there are prejudiced laws. So tell me, _why_ are you prejudiced?"

Neither of them really seemed ready for my question, and I couldn't really blame them. It was probably the first time they'd ever actually been questioned about their beliefs. Daphne was looking at me with big blue eyes filled with confusion. Maybe I shouldn't have laid it on so thick, they were only eleven after all. After a bit of time in which all three of us just stared at each other Daphne replied, "My family is a family of purebloods. I can trace my magical ancestry back 1000 years. Each and every one of my ancestors was a witch or wizard with an unparalleled bloodline. My family has a thousand years of magical knowledge across literally every single discipline of magic. We have helped shape the traditions and customs of the magical world and created innumerable spells. You have done nothing. You have no magical history and you know nothing of magic. My family is in every way better than yours and I am in every way better than you."

I leaned back slightly, throwing my arms across the backs of the seats and crossing my legs, exuding nonchalance while my mind was racing. That was it? It was all about her family? It just all seemed so petty. I also have a family going back a thousand years. I may not know what the hell they were doing a thousand years ago but I was a bit more up to date with the more recent family history. One of them worked as a miner in the gold rush out in California, three of them had been Confederate officers during the civil war, and one of my many great grandfathers had crossed the Delaware with Washington.

"So, just because I don't have a history of magic, you think you're better than I am?"

She nodded imperiously, evidently going back to giving me the silent treatment. This called for a more in depth query. I leaned forward, grabbing her gaze with the intensity of my own, "What makes _you_ better than me? Do you know more magic than me? It seems that we're both starting school right now so it stands to reason we would start as equals."

Her mouth opened to fire back an answer but nothing came out. The look of surprise on her face was adorable, surprise not at my question, but at the fact she couldn't refute it. A blush rose in her fair-skinned cheeks and she turned her head sharply away, crossing her arms in a defensive posture, "Mother wouldn't let me learn any magic."

I smiled. I had her. I glanced over at Tracey, who kind of looked mad at me, then back at Daphne, "So what you're saying is, you might not be as good at magic as me. You don't know that for sure."

Her head whipped back around to glare at me, "Of course I will be."

"But you don't know."

She snarled, "I can rightfully assume. I have grown up my entire life around magic, it will come to me naturally."

I smiled indulgently at her, "How about this. Let's make a bet, you and I. At the end of the school year whoever has the best grades wins. If you win, I won't bother you about any of this anymore, but if I win, we sit down and have a discussion where you listen to me, and think about what I say."

She looked a bit less angry and a bit more thoughtful so I stood up and offered her my hand again, palm up, and said, "In the meantime, why don't we forget all of that and try to start over and be friends?"

Surprise bloomed on her countenance once again and her face was conflicted for a few moments, and just as it looked like she was coming to a decision, the door to our compartment opened. Framed in the doorway was a small figure already wearing perfectly pressed black robes with slicked back blonde hair. Behind him were two slightly meatier figures, their beady eyes peeking in behind Draco Malfoy's head. Daphne looked away, seemingly glad that she didn't have to respond to what I thought was a very heartfelt offer of friendship, and looked at the people standing in the door, "Malfoy. What are you doing here?"

Her tone didn't hold the same disgust that it had for me but it wasn't exactly friendly either. Draco nodded to her and said, "Greengrass, I was just looking for Harry Potter. I heard he was on the train this year and thought I should introduce him to the right sort of wizard."

He kept a carefully neutral tone, one that sounded practiced, and when Daphne replied hers was also neutral and free of emotion, "As you can see, he isn't here, so you may leave."

He glanced at Tracey, and then at me, and I apparently caught his interest because he ignored Daphne and asked me directly, "And who are you?"

I turned towards him and offered the hand to him, just to be polite, "Michael Cooper. Pleased to meet you."

His lips twisted in a frown and he said disdainfully, "Are you an American? They're letting American's come to Hogwarts now?"

I nodded, "Yeah, I'm from the United States. You see, my family moved over here…"

He interrupted me and spat out, "I bet you're a mudblood too. Father keeps saying that Hogwarts is going to the dogs and it looks like it really is."

With that he turned and left, slamming the compartment door after him. I stood there for a moment with my hand outstretched, blinked, lowered my hand, looked at Daphne and deadpanned, "I take it he is also from a Pureblood family?"

The blonde nodded, a look of distaste on her face. I sat back down and shook my head, "A fine example of superior breeding, wouldn't you say?"

She snorted and her lips curved into a small smirk, "The Malfoy's may be pure-blooded but they are hardly an example of good breeding. They moved from France to Britain in the 1400s but never gained much traction in the government until Abraxas Malfoy, Draco's grandfather, made a massive fortune importing and exporting rare potions ingredients. He used it to bribe his way into the Ministry and Lucius Malfoy, Draco's father, does the same today. Everyone knows he holds the ear of the minister."

I looked at her and said dryly, "So, that kid, who is probably the most spoiled child in existence and doesn't have a lick of manners, is better than me just because he is a pureblood."

She looked mildly pained to say it but her response was a terse, "Yes."

I was about to complain and rant but Daphne decided to take the conversation on a whole different route, "You're quite well spoken for a child."

I snorted in disbelief at her audacity, "So are you."

"It is expected for a Lady in Pureblood circles to be well spoken and articulate. Of course, I, as the eldest daughter of an esteemed family, would be well spoken."

I smiled, it was the smile I like to use when I'm about to do a bunch of major bullshitting, "Alas, I may not be from such an esteemed family as you, but I am just as well spoken. I am an avid reader, and a vexing habit I have when reading is to take on some of the linguistic characteristics of the book I have read most recently. That book would really be three books, the most excellent trilogy written by J.R.R Tolkien, the Lord of the Rings. I look upon Théoden King and Aragorn son of Arathorn as examples to live up to, and should not a child attempt to emulate the great heroes from his stories?"

Daphne had a slight smile on her face, the excuse I made for my advanced vocabulary seemed to have thawed out her icy demeanor a bit, but Tracey had an astonished look on her face and blurted out, "It's like you're talking in a different language!"

I grinned and adopted the thickest southern accent I could before replying, "Well little lady, it'd be right rude to leave you out of the conversation so I'll try and keep the fancy talk down to a minimum."

Both of them looked agog at my sudden change in speech patterns so I said, in my normal manner of voice, "What? I'm from the Texas, I can speak cowboy with the best of them."

Tracey suddenly grinned and Daphne gave a long suffering sigh, and I was bombarded with questions from the brunette about the United States and Texas and cowboys. I made a game out of it. When talking to to Tracey I would use my normal accent or, when I was trying to be funny, a deep southern accent. When conversing with Daphne I would use formal, if not almost flowery, language. We kept ourselves amused until an announcement rang throughout the train that we would be arriving in ten minutes. Daphne heaved a great sigh and said, "This has been pleasant. You'd make a passable conversation partner if you were sorted into Slytherin. Unfortunately, it won't happen."

I cocked my head, "Why not? I could get sorted into any of the houses."

She laughed, a high tinkling laugh that was probably condescending, "Don't you know anything about the houses?"

Shrugging, I replied, "I know that there are four. Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. I've read _Hogwarts, a History_ so I know what they stand for."

Daphne sighed and started explaining the houses to me like she would a small child, "Yes. There are four houses but you won't learn all you need to out of a book. First we have Gryffindor, whose symbol is a Lion. They are the house of the brave and chivalrous. Most recently however, they are the house of blood traitors and muggleborn. They have no respect for purity of blood. Then there is Hufflepuff whose symbol is a badger. They are the house of hard work and loyalty. Many people look down on them as the house of the leftovers but the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement at the Ministry of Magic is Amelia Bones and she was a Hufflepuff, so they are not to be trifled with. Next is Ravenclaw whose symbol is an eagle. They are the house of Intelligence and learning. Most of the academically minded students are sorted there and they produce some of the finest minds in the Wizarding World. Last is Slytherin, whose symbol is a serpent. They are the house of cunning and ambition."

She seemed to hesitate for a moment and I couldn't help but ask, "What is it?"

Her face was pained for a second before she straightened, "I'll tell you this because we might have been friends. Slytherin has always been a house where Purebloods have congregated and so is generally seen as unwelcoming to Muggleborn. That wasn't the case until about 50 years ago, when anti-muggleborn prejudice became extremely virulent within Slytherin house. Now, outside of Slytherin and the Slytherin alumnus, we are seen as the house of blood-purity and hatred for muggleborn."

I ignored the message for a moment and gently teased her, "Oh? We is it?"

She smiled proudly, "Of course it is we. My family has been Slytherin for generations and won't break that tradition. Of course, I am well suited for the house already because I have my own ambitions already."

"Well, maybe I have my own ambitions, it's not so far fetched that I could get sorted into Slytherin."

Daphne replied dryly, "After the warning I just gave you, to still want to be sorted into Slytherin is the kind of reckless daring I would expect from a Gryffindor."

I countered, "Or I'm exceptionally cunning for having made a friend that is guaranteed to be in Slytherin to help me out."

The train had been slowing for a bit and came to a stop. Instead of replying to my witty riposte, she quickly stood let out a genuine laugh, "You'd best put your robes on. It's time to head up to the castle."

Both girls looked slightly giddy and didn't seem inclined to wait on me, so hurriedly threw my robes on and followed them into the crowd of students debarking the train. The train station at Hogsmeade was crowded I stared around with unabashed curiosity until I heard over the din "Firs' years! Firs' years over here!"

Turning I saw a huge man, with a huge black beard spilling from his face and down his chest and I realized that Hagrid was quite a bit bigger than me. Tracey, Daphne, and I quickly moved towards Hagrid and we saw him give a small black haired figure a huge pat on the back that nearly sent him flying while saying, "Alrigh' there 'Arry?"

We missed the reply from the black haired kid because Tracey had squealed, "It's Harry Potter!"

Luckily everyone around us was too preoccupied to listen, and so as we followed Hagrid down to the docks of the lake where a small boats were waiting for us I leaned over and asked Tracey, "Who's Harry Potter?"

Tracey gasped and looked at me incredulously, "How can you not know who Harry Potter is."

I was about to answer but stopped to so that we could all concentrate on getting into the boat. We were joined by a small kid that had well styled brown hair and a slightly stronger jaw than one might see on an 11 year old child. As we all settled into the boat I thought it might be polite to introduce myself instead of continuing my conversation with Tracey. I held out my hand and for the first time today, someone actually shook the damn thing, "Hi, I'm Michael Cooper."

The boy blinked for a moment, had to steady himself because the boat started to move by itself across the water, and then grinned, "Quite nice to meet you. I'm Justin Finch-Fletchley. I didn't think I'd meet any Yanks coming to Hogwarts."

I rolled my eyes, "That's the first thing that everyone comments on."

Justin pointed out quite matter of factly that, "It is the thing that stands out most about you at first acquaintance."

I hooked a thumb at Tracey and said dryly, "She told me I talked funny."

He laughed and Tracey blushed before snapping, "Well you do."

I teased back at her, "Only because we're in Great Britain. Let me tell you, you Brits sound funny. I've been here three years and still haven't figured out some of the language."

Both Justin and Tracey laughed and he turned to her and introduced himself again, "Justin Finch-Fletchley, and who might you be."

Just like mine, his outstretched hand was met with giggles from both girls and I sighed, "Sorry Justin, I guess you're a muggleborn like me?"

He looked nonplussed, "Well yes. Neither of my parents are magical."

I nodded sagely, "Well. These esteemed ladies are purebloods of old families and as I have learned to my great embarrassment, one must kiss the back of their hands when being introduced. I got a rather Victorian vibe from them."

Tracey interjected, "I'm not a pureblood, I'm a half-blood. My mum was was a muggleborn and my dad was a Pureblood. My dad is real close with Daphne's so we've been friends since we were little and I got some of her etiquette lessons."

Daphne rolled her eyes and sighed, "And you ignore them until they suit you."

The brunette stuck her tongue out at her friend, "Of course. Otherwise I'd be just as stuffy as you are."

Daphne looked about to strike back with a sharp tongue but we were all a bit dumbstruck at the sight of Hogwarts that met us as we finally came into view of the castle. The words of the books and the visuals of the movies really didn't do it justice. Towering over us it was almost sparkling with light as all the windows were lit up with an unearthly yellow light. I whistled under my breath appreciatively and whispered, "Well I'll be damned. That's a hell of a sight."

This earned me a light slap on the shoulder from Daphne, who didn't tear her eyes away from the castle and said almost automatically, "Don't use language like that in the presence of a lady."

We all kept our eyes on the castle and drank in its beauty and before we knew it we had passed into an underground tunnel that fed into a harbor. When our boat touched the dock we all clambered out like the other students and when we'd all assembled we heard a great cry, "Trevor!"

A small pudgy boy ran forward and grabbed a toad that was just hanging out near the doors. A smattering of laughter rose over the crowd and he slunk back towards us. Hagrid said, "Got yer toad? A'right then."

WIthout further ado he turned and knocked on the large double door that led to the castle. They slowly opened and an impeccably dressed Professor McGonagall strode out. Hagrid happily pointed to us and said, "Here are th' firs' years Professor."

She nodded curtly at him and replied, "Very good. Children, follow me."

She turned and swept into the castle and we hurried to keep up. We went up a few flights of stairs before we spilled out into what seemed like the entrance hall. It was quite magnificent, paintings and torches adorned the walls and we all looked around in childlike wonder.

Presently she turned and began what I assume is the speech she gives to all first years, "Welcome to Hogwarts. The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house common room."

She paused a moment to collect her thoughts and continued, "The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn you house points, while any rule-breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours. The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting."

With that said, she turned back and strode into the Great Hall. Mutters broke out around the group of eleven year olds and I heard Ron Weasley going on about having to fight a troll to get sorted. Daphne seemed to have heard it to and she was rolling her eyes at the idiocy of his comments. I smirked and leaned over to her, whispering, "Wrestling a troll seems a tad excessive for eleven year olds don't you think?"

She snorted and replied in a low tone, "Even full grown wizards have trouble dealing with trolls. No, that is a Weasley, and a bigger family of blood traitors there's never been. He seems to be more of an idiot than most."

I would have laughed but at that moment ghosts burst through the walls and their conversation seemed to startle everyone. Daphne jumped and then looked around, smug satisfaction that she was one of the few people staring at them without a wide open jaw permeating her bearing. I said dryly, "I guess you've seen ghosts before?"

She nodded, "Of course. There are a few around the magical historical sites all over England."

Professor McGonagall finally came back in and led the first years into the Great Hall. We snaked down the center aisle between the four house tables, looking around in wonder. I was too far away to hear Hermione Granger's whispered line about the ceiling that stemmed from _Hogwarts, a History_ but I'd read the same line, so I knew about the enchantment. After what seemed like forever but was only about 10 seconds we came to a stop in a clump in front of a stool with a ratty hat resting on it. I almost let out a very unmanly squeal at the sight of the sorting hat. There was a beat of silence and then the the brim of the hat ripped open and the sorting hat started its song. I forwent listening, Daphne had already adequately explained the houses and frankly the hat was off-key and a little bit flat. It bugged me.

When it was done the first new student was called up by McGonagall, "Hannah Abbot!"

A small blonde haired girl nervously stepped up and sat on the stool. McGonagall placed the hat on her head and after only a few seconds it boomed out, "Hufflepuff!"

Hufflepuff broke out into raucous applause and everyone else clapped politely, except for most of the Slytherins. Hannah hurried over to the Hufflepuff table as her friend Susan Bones was called up to take her place under the hat. When it shouted Hufflepuff the redhead looked quite relieved and hurried over to take a place by Hannah. Lavender Brown quickly went to Gryffindor, Boot and Brocklehurst went to Ravenclaw, Millicent Bulstrode became the first Slytherin, and then McGonagall called out, "Michael Cooper!"

I scampered (Yes scampered) up to the stool and sat down as McGonagall slipped the hat onto my head. I'd been expecting it but the small voice in my ear still startled me a bit, "Ah, curious indeed. Another one of you eh?"

I was surprised and just had to ask, "Another one? You mean other people have been reincarnated like me?"

It whispered into my mind silkily, "Oh yes. One in the 1300's and one in the 1700's. Neither of them had quite the foreknowledge you have though. Oh dear, it looks like the next few years are going to be quite lively."

I snorted and thought back at it, "You're telling me? I'm going to have to live it!"

If the hat could be amused I think it would have been, "Yes you will. Now let's get down to the business of what house you'll be in while you're living it."

I gave it a mental shrug, "Sort away."

"Quite intelligent. And determined, very determined not to let this second chance pass you by. A passion for learning, but as a means to an end, not for the knowledge itself. Not quite Ravenclaw material. Not Hufflepuff either, your mindset isn't quite geared towards fair play. That leaves just Gryffindor and Slytherin. You have the traits of both of them. Courage. Cunning. Ambition. Determination."

"Either one is good for me. I have my plan and it doesn't matter what house I'm in."

The hat hissed in triumph as I said it, "Yes! You can be courageous when the time calls for it but you'd rather use your cunning to plan your enemies destruction. The only place to put you is. Slytherin!"

The last word was shouted and amid clapping the sorting hat was lifted from my head. I glanced at Daphne and the look on her face was one of annoyance. I couldn't help but wink at her as I caught her eye and her annoyance turned to outright anger. I went to the Slytherin table and sat down at the end with empty seats reserved for the first years. A pretty girl who I assumed was a fifth year prefect introduced herself to me with a nod, "Glad to have you in Slytherin Cooper. I'm Gemma Farley, one of the Slytherin prefects."

I nodded and was about to say something when Crabbe joined us at the table, having been sorted into probably the only place he would fit in, and we were soon joined by Tracey Davis. She sat next to me and hissed, "Really? Really! After that entire spiel on the train you still got yourself sorted into Slytherin?"

I chuckled and said pointedly, "It's not my fault the hat thought cunning ambition and resourcefulness were my more prominent character traits."

If she were standing I think Tracey would have stamped her foot, "That's not the point!"

I shrugged as Gregory Goyle and Daphne joined us. The sorting was going quite quickly. Goyle sat with Crabbe across from us and Daphne sat next to Tracey. The blonde leaned over her friend and hissed, "What were you thinking?"

I shrugged my shoulders again, "Blame the sorting hat, not me."

She sat back and ignored me, stewing in silent anger. Women. I couldn't even understand the little girls. Eight hours ago she said she I was beneath her and she was too good to talk to me and now she was angry at me for getting sorted into Slytherin. Not because I was a muggleborn, but because she was worried about me being a muggleborn in Slytherin. I think. Maybe. I sighed, and watched the rest of the sorting. It went quickly until, "Harry Potter!"

The hall was completely silent as the little black haired kid went up and had his head nearly swallowed by the sorting hat. As every second ticked by the tension seemed to ratchet up throughout the hall and almost everyone was staring intensely at Harry. After perhaps a minute of almost complete silence, the hat erupted, "Gryffindor!"

All of the nervous energy within the hall seemed to explode from the Gryffindor table as they shouted, clapped, and cheered. The Weasley twins could be heard over the din, "We got Potter! We got Potter!"

The rest of the sorting went quickly and when Blaise Zabini had joined us, and McGonagall had taken away the stool and sorting hat, Dumbledore stood up resplendent in his blue robes spangled with silver stars and moons and said loudly, "Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!"

With that he clapped his hands and heaps of food piled on silver platters appeared on the tables. There was almost a palpable cheer that went up in the hall and everyone heartily dug in. I took some potatoes, roast beef, potatoes, carrots, and more potatoes. I like potatoes.

I ate slowly and turned to Tracey when it looked like she was taking a break to scope out new foods, "So, you never finished telling me, who exactly is Harry Potter? Everyone kind of freaked out over him."

She glared at me, it seemed I still hadn't quite been forgiven for being sorted into Slytherin, but relented and told me, "He's the bloody boy-who-lived!"

I noticed Farley had glanced over from next to me while Tracey kept going, in a low voice, "10 years ago You-Know-Who tried to kill him. He killed his parents but when he tried to kill Harry the spell didn't work and destroyed You-Know-Who."

Trying to learn all that I needed to know so that I could function with my foreknowledge while not giving away that fact that I had the fucking foreknowledge was going to be a pain in the ass. I pressed on, "Well what…"

I was interrupted by Daphne who hissed lowly, "If you shut up now, I will explain everything to you tomorrow. This is not polite dinner conversation!"

Both Tracey and I were a bit shocked at her vehemence and for a moment we were both silent before I grinned, "Awww, she does care.

I spent the rest of dinner talking to Tracey and when the deserts finally cleared away Dumbledore stood up again and said, "Now that we have all filled our bellies, I have a few start of term announcements. First, the Forbidden Forest is off limits to all students. Second, I have been asked by Mr. Filch, our caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors. And last, the third floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."

With that, and a grim look throughout the hall, he said, "Now, it is time for bed. Off you trot."

There was a sudden clamor of noise as students began to get up. I could hear prefects calling for first years and the Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs began to stream out of the hall. Quite smartly, the Ravenclaws and Slytherins let them go first and then left, with the fifth year Prefects Gemma Farley and a boy whom I didn't recognize and hadn't been introduced corralling the Slytherin first years. We were the last ones out of the hall and our group quickly moved through the school and down into the dungeons. We stopped at a plain stone wall across from the portrait of a rather angry looking man fiddling with his wand. Farley turned around and started to speak, "This is the entrance to the Slytherin Dungeons. The password is Runespoor, and it changes every fortnight, so make sure you learn it. You are under no circumstances to tell anyone outside of Slytherin house where our common room is, or bring them into it."

She turned and addressed the wall clearly, "Runespoor."

We entered and I could see that it wasn't as gloomy as I thought it might be. It was long and narrow, and the walls and floor were hard stone, but there were many tapestries and rugs around the room. Green lights adorned the walls and hung from the ceiling and gave the room a pleasant and soothing aura. Couches and chairs lined the walls and at the end there was a large fireplace underneath an ornate mantle with a roaring fire in it. It was flanked by two large windows that clearly led outside to the lake. I could see some rather large fish swimming by then.

We were in the middle of the common room when Farley turned again to address the group, "Alright. My name is Gemma Farley, and this is the other fifth year prefect, Adrian Pucey. If you have any problems, you come to us. There are a few rules that we follow as Slytherin's and the first is that whatever petty squabbles you have, they stop the moment you leave the common room. The other houses dislike us, and so we have to present a strong front to the rest of the school."

Pucey, who was on the short but stocky and muscular with black hair and hard eyes took it up from there, "Too right. Next. You will not shame Slytherin house by being anything less than perfectly presentable and punctual. That means that your tie will be perfectly straight and you will wear robes at all times outside this common room, and you will not be late for any of your classes. If you need help, ask a prefect and they will direct you to the class you need to get to. Breakfast starts at 6:30 in the Great Hall, and your first class is at 8."

Farley had had a stern face on for the entire lecture but when Pucey ended his own she put a small smile on her face, "Since you've all been sorted into Slytherin we know that you're talented and ambitious, so we know you'll all go far. Now…" She pointed off to the left and right at two passageways that led away from the common room, "The boys dormitories are over there and the girls are on the opposite side. Your dorm is clearly marked, so don't try and go into any of the older students rooms. It's late, and classes start early tomorrow, so get off to bed."

The girls and the boys separated, I gave a little wave to Tracey and Daphne that the brunette smiled at and the blonde ignored, and followed Pucey down the hall to our dorm. He left us at the door and the six of us first year Slytherin boys went into the dorm where we would be sleeping for the next seven years. It was rectangular, with three beds on either side of the room and the same green lighting scheme as the common room. A door was at the opposite end of the room which I assumed was the showers and toilets. We all dispersed and I found that my bed was on the left at the end on the same side as Theo Nott and Blaise Zabini. My trunk was sitting at the end of the bed and I barely spared a thought for how it got there because damnit, I was full of really good food and pretty tired even though it was barely past 9 in the evening. Curse this 11 year old body!

I could hear the other boys murmuring behind me as I opened up my trunk and found some sweatpants and a shirt to sleep in and quickly went to the bathroom to put them on. When I came out Draco was standing near my bed with his arms crossed, flanked by the twin menaces Crabbe and Goyle. As I neared my bed he put on his patented sneer and said, "So, the mudblood thinks he's good enough for Slytherin?"

I yawned and said in my most bored voice, "No, the sorting hat thought I was good enough for Slytherin. It's a thousand year old magical artifact and you're an annoying 11 year old kid. I trust it more."

My verbal brush off made his face go red and his fists clenched, "You're going to be here for a long time and you would do well to show me the proper respect."

I sighed and leaned on one of the posts of my four poster bed, "Look. Malfoy. Why don't we agree that the dorm room is off limits. We can argue and you can call me a mudblood all you like in the common room but in here I just want to study and sleep. I think that's reasonable don't you?"

He looked at me with disdain before the sneer melted into grudging acceptance, "Fine. The dorm is off limits."

He turned and walked over to his side of the room without further ado muttering something about living with mudbloods and how his father would be ashamed. I ignored him and got into bed, closing the curtains around me. They did a very good job of blocking out the light and I quickly drifted off to sleep, not bothering to think about how much of a pain in the ass being in Slytherin was going to be when everyone figured out I was a muggleborn.


	3. Chapter 3

**It's been a while, but here's the next chapter. I hope everyone enjoys it and leaves reviews. I don't have a beta so my editing isn't as good as it could be. There are probably mistakes. Please leave a review on the way out.**

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I'd been mildly worried about how I was going to wake up in the morning, electronic alarm clocks didn't work at Hogwarts, but last night I'd been too tired to care. Somehow I magically woke up at six in the morning which was the first time I'd ever woken up that early naturally in either life. It seemed a bit peculiar that I'd wake up so early, and when I got out of bed five other eleven year old kids were milling around the dorm room rubbing sleep from their eyes. Call me paranoid, but that seems a bit too much like a magical coincidence to me.

But whatever, I was up, and breakfast was waiting for me. I grabbed my uniform and ran to the showers before anybody else could get there and was out by 6:20. I had no idea what classes I had for the day so I stuffed all of my textbooks into my bag, which was a satchel, not the backpack I was used to. With that done I slipped my wand into the pocket of my robes and practically skipped to the Great Hall and sat down for breakfast at 6:45 sharp. Food was already on the platters in front of me and I only hesitated a few moments before digging in. Eggs, sausages, and toast were all eaten in quick order and I was done by 7. With nothing else to do since I didn't have my schedule yet, I went back to my old standby, people watching.

The hall was filling up pretty quickly. The Slytherins and Ravenclaws had the most full tables, Hufflepuff was a valiant third although most of them were still rubbing sleep out of their eyes, and only the upper years of the Gryffindors were at breakfast, and not even all of them. I spotted Daphne and Tracey enter the hall and sit down on the other end of the table, so I got up and joined them, sitting across from them with my back to the wall so that I could still see the entire hall. I gave them a genial smile when I sat down, "Good morning ladies. How did you sleep?"

Daphne ignored me as she set about putting food on her plate but Tracey moaned, "Terrible. I tossed and turned all night. The bed is really nice but it's completely different than the one I have at home."

I couldn't help but give a small laugh, "I slept like a rock. It was weird though, everyone in the dorm woke up at exactly six."

I looked expectantly at Daphne while she was adding jelly (In American it would be jelly, I'm not sure what it would be in the Queen's english) to her toast. She sighed before explaining, "There's probably an enchantment on the bed. At a set time it will disrupt your sleep and wake you up. If my family has an event in the early morning, father will generally cast it on mine and my sisters bed so that we are up and ready at the proper time."

I rubbed my chin, thinking out loud, "Interesting. So if I didn't want to wake up at six, but say, seven, how would I go about doing that?"

Daphne's facial expression was that of a shrug. I don't know how she did it but I want to learn. Her shoulders didn't move at all, yet I knew that she had shrugged, "I wouldn't know. I cannot cast the spell."

I was disappointed but not all that surprised. It was just something I'd have to ask about later, although it was one hell of an alarm clock so I'd be interested in it anyways. I continued on, "And Daphne, how did you sleep?"

She sighed again, "Since we're going to be interacting on a regular basis, I would prefer if you called me Miss Greengrass and not use my first name."

I immediately switched to formal speak (Tracey was right, it was practically a different language), "Are we not friends? That form of address seems much too formal between friends."

Daphne shook her head, "A mildly enjoyable train ride does not a friendship make. Even if we were to become friends, you should not use my given name until I allow you to"

I nodded sagely, "Ah. More pureblood etiquette that I am unaware of?"

"No, it's just common courtesy."

I laughed, "Are you sure? I've met plenty of British kids that don't have a problem with me using their given names."

She arched an eyebrow at me, "They are clearly just as uncultured as you are."

"So, we're back to it being more pureblood etiquette as opposed to common sense."

Daphne couldn't have glared harder if I had been a bug on her shoes. She went back to eating and ignoring me and I gave Tracey a big grin and a thumbs up. She had to hold in her giggles and I let my grin settle into a smirk of satisfaction. There was a commotion at the other end of the table and all three of us looked to see Snape walking down the aisle, handing out schedules. I waited eagerly in anticipation and Tracey looked like she was going to explode out of her seat with all the built up excitement in her tiny body but Daphne just sat and calmly ate her toast. I bet she could sit calmly through a tornado warning with the damn thing roaring down on her house. Snape got to us and tapped his wand to three pieces of parchment from the stack he was carrying, "Miss Greengrass, Miss Davis, Mister Cooper, your schedules."

I glanced at mine before saying politely, "Thank you, Professor."

He turned his gaze to me and the books really don't do him justice. His coal black eyes looked like they could figure out every secret I had just by glancing at me. He drawled out, "I had heard we were to have an American among us this year, but I did not think I would have you in my house. I trust there will be no rule breaking from you, Americans always seem to have problems with them."

Wow. Starting in early. I may have looked like I was 11 but I was going to give as good as I got, even to a professor, "Of course Sir. I just don't know enough about the rules yet to know exactly which ones to follow."

Left unsaid was the assumption that once I knew the rules, there were some I wouldn't be following. He caught the insinuation as well and his lips twitched, towards a smile or a frown I couldn't tell but they twitched alright. He murmured, "Quite." and left to finish passing out the rest of the schedules.

When his back was turn I let a smirk of satisfaction flow over my face but it disappeared when Daphne started, "You really shouldn't bait Professor Snape that way."

I stuck my tongue out at her childishly, "He started it."

She sighed in exasperation, "You are incredibly annoying."

I couldn't help but roll my eyes and look over at Tracey, "Tracey likes me. Don't you Tracey?"

The tiny brunette shook her head and crossed her arms, "Oh no. I'm not getting into anymore of Daphne's arguments."

The aforementioned girl shot her friend an aggrieved look before turning back to me, "The fact that Tracey likes you does not mean that you are not annoying."

I grinned, "Of course it does. If I were annoying nobody would like me."

I knew that there wasn't a way to logic my way out of that particular argument, but damnit, I was going to keep going until the bitter end. Daphne sniffed disdainfully, "I would hazard a guess that Tracey likes you despite the fact that you're annoying."

Laughing I replied, "Well, I have to make friends somehow. I bet all you pure blooded Slytherin's have known each other for years. If I don't have some charming personality traits I'll end up an outsider in my own house."

She retorted dryly, "And annoying is the charming personality trait you're going with?"

I smiled, "No, it's the one I'm going with for you. I'm sure that our other housemates are quite a bit less complex than you are. They'll take much less work to win over."

She rolled her eyes but a small smattering of pink rose high in her cheeks, "Flattery will get you nowhere Mister Cooper."

A grin found its way onto my face, "Ah, but continuous flattery applied over a long period of time will get me everywhere."

She sniffed disdainfully again and then ignored me by perusing our new schedule. I quickly turned to mine and looked it over. Transfiguration was first on the docket, at eight in the morning, and then a double period of herbology later in the afternoon. I glanced over the rest of the schedule, there seemed to be a large amount of free periods. It took me a few minute to come up with a theory on why, but I figure it's a good one. More free periods means more time to work on homework, which first and second years probably need since for many magicals I assume Hogwarts is their first and only formalized school. They need more time to get into the swing of academia. Muggleborns, who have had formalized schooling before, need the time to get used to _magic_. I suppose it could also be to leave room for when we picked electives in third year, rigorous classes such as Ancient Runes and Arithmancy probably needed more class periods to teach the material. I wouldn't complain about more free time though, I needed to get used to magic as much as any other muggleborn, and more free time means more time to read as many books as I can get my hands on. Writing essays and doing research for class would be a cinch for me, I won't have to learn how to do it because I already know how, unlike my peers.

I glanced down at my watch, a mechanical model that wouldn't go haywire in Hogwarts, and cursed mentally, it was already 7:30. Both Daphne and Tracey were finished eating so I suggested, "We only have thirty minutes until Transfiguration, why don't we ask a prefect where the classroom is and we'll find our way over there."

Daphne nodded and stood up, Tracey and I followed suit as she said, "Good idea. I wouldn't want to be late to my first class."

By the time I'd gotten around the table they'd asked a prefect and were already on their way out the door. I scrambled to catch up with them and when I did I huffed, "That was rude. You could have waited for me at the door."

Daphne glanced over her shoulder, even though she was shorter than me she still managed to look imperious, "You should have been more polite this morning."

I glared at the back of her head as she turned around, "I was very polite this morning."

She said without turning around, "You used my given name without permission."

I rolled my eyes and replied, "Are we really back to this?"

The blonde ignored me and Tracey turned her head to advise me over her shoulder, "You aren't going to win. Once you get Daphne mad about etiquette it doesn't stop until you beg for forgiveness."

I laughed, I couldn't help it, "Of all the things to get riled up about. I guess you've got some begging for forgiveness tips for me then Tracey?"

I could hear the smile in her voice, "Oh no. Like I said, I don't get into Daphne's arguments anymore."

I pouted at the back of her head but kept my mouth shut, and instead turned my attention to the hallways we were walking through. We came to a more central area, and when I looked up I saw dozens of staircases, some of them moving about, and dozens of students walking up and down them. I stood and let it all soak in for a moment because hot damn, I was at Hogwarts. My moment of personal reflection was ended when the girls took off down another hallway, apparently headed to the Transfiguration classroom. I hurriedly followed them, because I sure as hell didn't know where it was.

Apparently the Transfiguration classroom was Classroom One. It was the first door on the right and when we entered it looked vaguely familiar, my memory of the movies was hazy. We were the first ones there, although I did spy a cat sitting on the large desk at the front. The three of us made our way up through the aisles between the desks and sat down in the front. Daphne sat first and so Tracey and I bracketed her. It may have been smarter to sit on the other side of Tracey and let Daphne's anger cool off, but since I'd apparently decided to annoy her into becoming my friend then perseverance would be the order of the day. By sitting next to her I was reminding her that I was still there, and that she couldn't put me out of her mind.

I set my bag down and took out my Transfiguration book, as well as two pieces of parchment, an inkwell, and a quill. Now, writing with a quill is a straight bitch. I practiced a bit before coming to school because hey, quills are cool. Wrong. I had bought pre-prepared quills so I didn't have to worry about cutting the tips, but getting the hang of writing smoothly with the tip of the quill was freaking hard. Half the time my letters were too thick and half the time they looked normal, but my handwriting was much sloppier than I wanted it to be. I had already resigned myself to hard to read notes and hoped that the Professors wouldn't assign too many essays until I finally got the hang of it. I set all my supplies onto my desk and then picked up the Transfiguration book, _A Beginners Guide to Transfiguration_ , and opened it to the first chapter. I was only a few lines in when Daphne remarked, "You're just now reading the textbook. I've already read all of them. You may not have wanted to make that bet on the train."

I glanced at her dubiously, her eyes were on me and she had a look of superiority on her face, and replied, "Miss Greengrass, if you're only going to be rude, then I shall turn your own tactic back on you. I have an excuse, there are points of etiquette that I don't know, but since you already know it all, you don't have one."

She looked away, abashed, and murmured an apology before repeating her question in a much kinder way and in a much kinder tone, "I am surprised that you haven't read the textbook yet. You seem like a studious person and eager to learn magic."

I nodded graciously, accepting her apology, and answered, "My process is just different than yours. I prefer to listen to the teacher explain something, ask questions, and then read the textbook as further clarification."

She pointed out, "But you were reading the Potions book when we came into your compartment on the express."

I was surprised she remembered, "Well, Potions seems to require large amounts of memorization. I'm sure I will have questions for the professor, but if I memorize the ingredients, what they do, and the way they interact with each other, I will be able to ask more pertinent questions."

Daphne nodded, "That makes sense. What do you think your favorite class will be?"

I shrugged, "Ask me again after this week. My favorite class is generally dependent on the teacher. If I like the teacher, I like the class. If I don't like the teacher, I will complain all day long about the class even if I like the content."

Tracey leaned forward to look around Daphne, "That doesn't make sense. If I like a class then I like the class, no matter who the teacher is."

I shrugged again, I seemed to be doing a lot of shrugging, before replying, "That's just the way I work."

We continued making small talk as the class filled up with Slytherins and Hufflepuffs and the room was filled with chattering 11 year olds. At some point I looked up front and the cat was gone so I assumed McGonagall wasn't going to be doing a dramatic animagus transformation for our class. A minute later she swept through the door and the class quieted dramatically. She went to the front of the room and went right into her speech, "Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts. Anyone messing around in my class will leave and not come back. You have been warned."

After the rather ominous warning she turned her desk into a pig and back, which was fucking impressive, and then set about lecturing us. The notes I took were fairly complex. Stuff about the nature of transfiguration and the theory of simple transfigurations, such as inanimate to inanimate transfigurations. Eventually she handed out matchsticks and we got to the infamous matchstick to needle transformation. She showed us the wand movements and had us practice them as well as the incantation. Let me just say, that shit was hard. I understood the theory behind transfigurations, the equation was quite simple to someone who'd had advanced calculus in college. Wand power and concentration divided by weight and toughness, all multiplied by an unknown variable. According to Ollivander I had a fairly powerful wand and I was old enough mentally to know how to concentrate on something, and a matchstick was neither heavy nor tough. So, when I couldn't make any headway turning the matchstick into a needle, I assumed it was the unknown variable that was fucking me.

I raised my hand and when McGonagall came over I had her check my wand movements and incantation. According to McGonagall my incantation was spot on but my wand movements were twitchy, whatever that meant. Apparently I needed a steadier hand. She left to make more rounds and I got back to it. I stared at the matchstick, honing my focus, and after about ten seconds I took a deep breath, made the wand movements, and breathed out the incantation. Of course, it didn't work, and I swore at the matchstick viciously in my mind. Daphne whispered next to me, "The more you scowl at it the better it works. Or so I'm told."

I glared viciously at the blonde, who was smirking in her seat next to me. Her match, instead of having a bulbous red tip, had a pointy red tip, evidence of transfiguration. When she saw that I'd noticed her smirk turned into a full blown victorious smile. I grumbled at her before turning back to my own match. Over the course of the class period I got the head of the match to shine silver, but it still felt wooden, and it was definitely not pointy. Daphne never did get any further and we were the only ones in the class to get anywhere with the assignment. Both of us earned two points for Slytherin and as we walked out of class, "So, after class one, I guess we're tied.

She waved her hand dismissively, "I have an entire year to beat you, and I don't remember agreeing to the bet."

I threw a sidelong glance at her, "Really? You said I wouldn't win the bet earlier if I wasn't studious."

Daphne smiled enigmatically, "You won't. It only counts if I'm winning."

The only thing I could do was laugh. Loudly. When I'd calmed down I said, still with a trace of laughter in my voice, "You're diabolical."

"Of course I am. You should know that I'm going to take advantage of your slip ups."

"So, because you never actually agreed to the bet, it only exists when you want it to?"

We reached the Slytherin common room where we were going to spend our free period before lunch, "Basically."

With a sigh I sat down with Daphne and Tracey and we started to look over the homework that McGonagall had assigned us. We didn't make much headway into it before lunchtime and after that was Herbology, where we got more homework. Tuesday was Charms and Defence Against the Dark Arts. Professor Flitwick was super short with a high squeaky voice, but he was a very knowledgeable professor and could lecture quite well. Quirrell's stutter made it nearly impossible to follow his lectures, and his lectures consisted more of anecdotes than anything. Wednesday was Transfiguration in the morning again and a double period of History of Magic.

The books and the movies couldn't do justice to the sheer boredom that Professor Binns could inspire. I was prepared to sleep the class away or use it to do other homework but when I looked at the notes I'd taken during the first class and compared it to the book, there were some inconsistencies. Binns definitely gave more details than the books and with my resolution to be a better student in my new life, I resigned myself to years of boring classes. Thursday was Charms and Defence again, but this time we had a midnight Astronomy class with the Ravenclaws. I wanted to laugh at my tired classmates, years of college all-nighters had given me the experience to power through, but god damn I was tired. My eleven year old body was just not ready for that kind of shit. Slytherin had the morning off to recover from our late night and in the afternoon we had double Potions with Gryffindor.

Now, Potions was the only class that we had with Gryffindor, and I was perversely excited to see the the dynamic between the two houses. I was also going to use it to begin my plan. The plan to befriend Harry and help him steer the way through the morass that was the next seven years. When Snape verbally destroys Harry and the Gryffindors in class, I'll offer a sympathetic ear, or something like that. It was probably stupid because he'd most likely not be in the greatest mood to talk to Slytherin's, but it's what I had so far. It was only the first week, give me a break. After lunch I headed down to the dungeons with Tracey and Daphne to Potions class. Daphne swept through the halls, just as regal as normal, while Tracey trudged along and I walked with her. The brunette was still complaining about Astronomy the night before, "That is way too late to stay up! I need to sleep! Who cares about where the stars are? I can find them on a chart can't I?"

I replied with a grin, "Yes. Yes, you can."

If the shriek had been louder it would have deafened me, "Then why do we have to stay up so late to take Astronomy!"

I would have responded but Daphne turned and said disdainfully, "Tracey, don't shout. Have a bit of decorum."

She turned back to keep walking and Tracey started to make faces at her back. I started making faces too, and the both of us amused ourselves all the way to the potions classroom trying to outdo each other in the funny face department. We were the first to arrive at the Potions classroom and we waited at the door. We must have been the most punctual students in Hogwarts because we were always the first ones to class. Pretty quickly the corridor filled up with Gryffindors and Slytherins. I spotted Draco, flanked by Crabbe and Goyle. He spared me a glance but that was it. The little blonde kid had surprisingly kept the truce up pretty well. He didn't say a word to me in the dorm, and aside from a few muttered insults in the common room he ignored me.

Harry and Ron were the last two to enter the corridor and they were lucky that they showed up when they did because Snape opened the door and said, "Enter."

We all filed in and sat down at long tables with cauldrons that already had boiling water in them. I sat next to Daphne and Theo Nott sat down next to me. The class quieted quickly when Snape swept to the front of class and began to take roll. I got a glance when he called my name but he actually did stop when he said softly, "Harry Potter. Our new celebrity."

He paused long enough for it to be uncomfortable, and if he weren't so intimidating somebody probably would have giggled nervously, and then finished the roll. He then launched into a speech about the grandeur of potion brewing. It was actually a pretty sweet speech. You could tell that the man really was passionate about potions. I almost missed it when he snapped out, "Potter! What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Pretty much everyone's head swiveled to look at the boy whose eyes were wide with shock at being called out so suddenly. Next to him a bushy haired girl who had to be Hermione, and damn did she have some really big hair, had her hand in the air. He said tentatively, "I don't know Professor."

Snape sneered, "Well, it looks like fame isn't everything. Let's try again, where would I find a bezoar?"

Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle looked positively gleeful at Harry's answer, "I don't know sir."

"Thought you wouldn't open a book before coming, eh Potter?"

I'd finished the book, _Magical Drafts and Potions_ , that he'd assigned and if I weren't cheating by already knowing answers I'd have had a hard time answering. Wormwood and asphodel were listed as ingredients, but there were at least a dozen different ways to prepare each ingredient and they reacted differently with each different preparation. The Draught of Living Death, the answer to Snape's first question, wasn't even a potion listed in the book. Harry would have had to memorize the interaction between powdered asphodel and the infusion of wormwood, and our elementary potions book only said that when added together the two had powerful properties used for sleeping potions. Really not a question to ask in the first class. However, Harry should have gotten the bezoar one. It was on page 87.

"What is the difference Potter, between Monkshood and Wolfsbane?"

He was asking this to a kid that had probably only had one, maybe two herbology classes? I mean, the answer was probably somewhere in _One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi_ , but I hadn't seen it when I'd skimmed the book. Harry answered quietly, "I don't know Professor, maybe you should try Hermione, I think she knows."

Hermione did in fact, look like she knew, because she had perfect arm extension and a look on her face that said if she didn't answer the question she may have a brain aneurysm. There were a few snickers. Snape glanced around the class before his eyes settled onto Hermione and his lips curled into a sneer, "Sit down!"

Hermione's arm came down at light speed and she sat down as Snape continued, "For your information, Potter, asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death. A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and it will save you from most poisons. As for monkshood and wolfsbane, they are the same plant, which also goes by the name of aconite. Well? Why aren't you all copying that down?"

Everyone quickly got out parchment and quills were snapped up to start writing. Snape turned back to Harry, "And a point will be taken from Gryffindor House for your cheek, Potter."

Snape was definitely a nasty son of a bitch. He put everyone in pairs to brew a boil cure potion. I was paired with Theodore Nott, and we were both very polite to each other as we brewed the potion. I've seen more personality in a potato. I mean, it was probably because Draco had some sort of hate campaign going against me amongst our year group and Nott didn't want to get too friendly with me, but I figured as long as we got the work done and got a decent grade on it then we could work out any lingering issues at a later date. Harry and Ron worked together but the real problem team was Neville Longbottom and Seamus Finnigan. Intellectually I knew that they were a disaster in the making but seeing it in person, well, I can see why the original Slytherins all found it funny. The two were a comedy act. Seamus probably would have been competent if he wasn't the consummate joker, and Neville was just honestly bad at potions. I noticed that he mis-weighed two ingredients while Seamus wasn't looking and then the blow up, he threw in porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire. There was a loud hiss and the acrid smell of melting metal as the hapless Gryffindor's potion spilled across the floor. I quickly leapt up on my stool as the rest of the class scrambled to avoid the potion. Neville was unlucky enough to be covered in the stuff and boils started to pop out all over his arms and legs and face.

Snape started to berate the poor kid before making Seamus take his partner to the infirmary. He rounded on Harry, "Potter! Why didn't you tell him to take the cauldron off the fire before adding porcupine quills? Thought it'd make you look good if he got it wrong? That'll be another point from Gryffindor!"

Well. Anyone that can do that to a couple of eleven year old kids doesn't deserve an ounce of my respect. What a dick. After that there wasn't a peep out of anybody except for a few snickers from Malfoy. We all finished our potions and bottled them and got out of there as fast as we could. I left with Daphne and Tracey and as soon as we'd cleared the room I whistled, "That was brutal. He's not a nice man."

Daphne shrugged primly, "I didn't see anything wrong."

I rolled my eyes, "Verbally destroying a couple of eleven year olds isn't wrong?"

"Longbottom completely messed up his potion, and if Potter can't answer a few questions then Professor Snape has the right to berate a lackluster student. Besides, they're just Gryffindor's."

I stopped in the middle of the hallway and looked directly into the blonde girl's eyes, "If you think that disgraceful display was remotely appropriate then you're obviously too much of a child to comprehend right and wrong. If you let something like house rivalry's color your perception of people then perhaps I should rethink our budding friendship. I already have enough trouble with my housemates, what's a little more."

The incredulous look on Daphne's face almost made me crack a grin. Instead I gave Tracey a nod walked off with my head held high. I knew that accusing Daphne of childish would really rankle, and it could backfire on me. She was mentioned perhaps one or two times in the books, so I assume she's the type to watch and wait and spent all of her Hogwarts career watching and waiting. Now there's nothing wrong with that normally, but there's going to be a lot of mayhem in the next seven years, and I need to start building some bridges. I know that in seven years I'm probably going to end up with deadly curses whizzing by my face, and the more people throwing deadly curses back the better. Originally Slytherin house caused a lot of trouble. I'm not sure what went down that during the 1997-1998 school year, but if there's a more sympathetic Slytherin house then maybe it won't be quite as bad.

Now, most people in this situation would be doing that damnedest to not get that far. Most people would try and head all that trouble off, say, during the Triwizard tournament. They might fake being a seer or something like that and warn Harry and Dumbledore about all of Voldemort's plans. I however, am a control freak. I can't control something like that. I do however, know what's going to happen in the next seven years, and I can control certain people's actions if I have enough influence with them. Things really turned out alright in the end. Voldemort died, most of his Death Eaters either died or were imprisoned by a new and less corrupt government, and Harry and the gang lived happily ever after. However, a lot of people died and suffered and I'd be a bad person if I didn't at least try and mitigate it. What I really need to do starts at the end of third year. I need to engineer Peter Pettigrew's capture and Sirius Black's exoneration. That's the first step. However, I also need Pettigrew to escape so that he can go to Voldemort, who can get to Barty Crouch Jr, who can make the triwizard tournament happen. It's all just super complicated and I'm not going to worry about it. Instead I'm going to worry about making friends with the two kids that are walking in front of me.

Harry and Ron were walking towards the entrance hall when I caught up with them. Both of them had a distinctive slump in their shoulders that I assume is common with Snape induced depression. I've never been really good at making new friends but I have a new life, as it were, so I'll be trying to turn over a new leaf. I decided on the direct approach. Harry was on the left, so I went up on his left, slung my arm around his shoulder and said, "Well, that sucked."

Both of them looked at me incredulously and Ron's mouth hung open for a few seconds before it snapped up to start speaking, "Who are you?"

"I'm Michael. This guy here is Harry Potter, but I didn't catch your name."

He looked pretty confused but answered, "Ehm. Ron Weasley."

I held out my the hand that was still around Harry's shoulders, "Nice to meet you."

The redhead bemusedly shook my hand and then I turned to Harry. I took my arm from around his shoulder and stuck it out, "And you're Harry Potter. Nice to meet you."

The kid, who was a head shorter than me, looked at my hand suspiciously, "I've already had Malfoy by trying to make friends. I'm not sure if another Slytherin is going to be any better."

I let my hand swing back down to my side, "Ah. Well. Draco Malfoy isn't the best example of Slytherin House, and neither is Professor Snape it seems, so I thought I'd put my best foot forwards and offer an apology on behalf of Slytherin."

This time Harry seemed bemused but Ron narrowed his eyes, "Why?"

I looked around and then whispered conspiratorially, "It turns out I'm a muggleborn, and that doesn't seem to go over too well in Slytherin."

An understanding look washed over Ron's face but Harry looked frustrated, "What does that mean? Malfoy went on about how some wizarding families are better than others and now you're talking about muggleborns not doing well in Slytherin. Will someone just explain what that means!"

Both Ron and I were a bit surprised by the outburst. Ron scratched his head and started, "Well. Malfoy's a pureblood. He can trace his magical ancestors back pretty far back. Michael here is a muggleborn, which means both of his parents are muggles. People like Malfoy don't really like people like Michael."

I cut in after that, "That's why I don't go over too well in Slytherin. Most of them are purebloods and blood purists, Malfoy is the worst. Plus, I'm American. That's almost worse. I don't get a lot of love in my house so I figured I'd try and make friends outside of it. Who better than the guy Malfoy dislikes the most? I get friends and it makes him mad. It's a win-win."

Harry looked dubious, "So you want to be friends with me because it'll make Malfoy mad?"

I shrugged, he was right to be dubious, "That and you seem like a good guy."

Harry and Ron shared a look and then the dark haired boy shrugged, "Okay."

I was shocked, "Just like that?"

Harry shrugged, "You seem like a decent bloke. I've never met an American either. We're about to go down to Hagrid's, want to come?"

"Uh. Sure."

The three of us had a pleasant afternoon at Hagrid's. The extremely large man was as nice as in the books, so it really was fun. We parted ways at dinner and I went to the Slytherin table while my two new friends went to Gryffindor. I sat alone because Daphne was ignoring me, as evidenced by the fact that she turned up her nose at me when I started walking towards her and Tracey. Ah well.

After dinner I made my way back to the dorm and lackadaisically worked on my homework. I know, it's a Friday night and I'm doing homework, but I'm 11 and there's really nothing fun to do on Fridays yet. Around ten I was approached by Daphne and Tracey. Both girls sat down at my table and Daphne started without preamble, "I do not appreciate being called a child. You will apologize at once or I will consider our acquaintance terminated."

I glanced at her over my book, "Have you thought about why I called you childish?"

She glared at me, "I have. I think it was uncalled for. I realize that Professor Snape was horrid to the Gryffindor's but it's not my problem. It was not reason for you to insult me."

With a smile I snapped the book shut, "So you agree that what Professor Snape said and did was not appropriate for a teacher."

Daphne rolled her eyes, it might have been the most hardcore eyeroll I've ever seen. That girl was really expressive with her face, "Yes. But that doesn't mean I care."

I nodded, "You should. But, I apologize. Calling you childish may have been over the line."

She nodded decisively, "It was."

I smiled, "Then Miss Greengrass, I humbly apologize for the insult I gave you."

A gracious nod was what I got in return, "I accept your apology."

I might have made a smart remark but Tracey beat me to it, "It's like watching two cats circle each other."

I laughed. Daphne scowled. Well, maybe Friday night will be fun after all.


	4. Chapter 4

The weekend was spent exploring Hogwarts and looking through the library. The castle was enormous, seven floors with dozens of rooms plus dungeons. The dungeons were more like a sub basement of the castle. There weren't actual dungeons, and if there were I'm sure they'd been bricked up at some point. It was pretty dark down there, the only light coming from the multitude of torches that lined the walls. There were plenty of unused rooms though. One of them even had a few chairs, a table, and a bubbling cauldron in it. I left that room alone. The rest were empty save for some rickety furniture. The first floor was much more interesting. The transfiguration classroom I already knew about, but there were five or six other rooms each with a table and shelves and cushy armchairs, clearly meant for studying. All of these were situated near the library, which took up the rest of the floor. The Hogwarts library was the biggest damn library I've ever been to. Of course I haven't been to that many libraries so I'm probably a bit biased.

My time in the library was spent combing through it for history books. I'm a real history buff. It's what I studied in college before my reincarnation, so I know my shit. What I was looking for here was wizarding history. What I found were less history books and more novelizations of the various events surrounding the Dark Lord's that had popped up over the centuries and dry treatises on wizarding Law. There was nothing even resembling history books I was used to. I wanted facts! I wanted the political situation that surrounded the rise of each Dark Lord! I wanted the Why's of everything! I did not get that.

My skimming was pretty disappointing, but I reminded myself that I had 7 years to delve deeply into the library and I was bound to find something. I left the girls mostly to their own devices over the weekend, eating lunch and dinner with them but otherwise doing my own thing. Monday rolled around and I was up bright eyed and bushy-tailed ready to start the day. Which, now that I think about it, is an absolutely perverse state of being on a Monday morning. But what was I going to do?

Go to class. I was going to go to class. Which I did. There's not much to say about that. I listened to McGonagall lecture us about more principles of transfiguration. It is truly fascinating how something as interesting as transfiguration can sound as dry as a the Sahara Desert. McGonagall assigned us homework at the end of class. We each had to research how size affects inanimate-to-inanimate transfigurations and write a foot of parchment about it. I figured we'd be moving on to transfiguring objects to something of a different size soon.

Now, a foot of parchment isn't that much. To me at least. The closest analogous is one page written on college-ruled paper. For someone that spent four years writing papers five to ten times that length regularly, it was no problem. Spending the free periods before and after lunch in the library netted me the information and after a double period of herbology and dinner I knocked out the essay in no time. Tracey and Daphne were both struggling with the same assignment when I crossed the common room to sit down with them.

"How's it going?"

Daphne didn't look up as she perused a reference book but Tracey was only too glad to put down her quill and complain, "Where do I even begin? How does she expect us to write a foot of parchment on something she hasn't even taught us?"

I had to smirk, "That bad huh?"

Tracey sighed and sat back in her chair, "Yes that bad."

"Would you like some help?"

This elicited a smile, "Yes please."

Daphne chose to interrupt at that point, "Tracey, you need to learn how to do your homework by yourself. If Mr. Cooper helps you then you won't learn what Professor McGonagall is trying to teach you as well as if you had done the work yourself."

I was pretty surprised, "That's pretty harsh Miss Greengrass. Perhaps you're frustrated with your own homework and it's coming out in a less than gracious manner."

I was even more surprised when she looked up and gave me a wry look, "If I don't instill good habits in Tracey now, how will she complete her homework if I'm not around to make her?"

I had to wince, "Ouch. That's even more harsh. There's no need for that."

Tracey shook her head sadly and groaned, "I know I should be mad, but she's kind of right. I'm much more interested in the broom riding lessons they announced on Friday."

Daphne rolled her eyes, "It's all she's talked about since the notice went up. She needs to focus or we'll never get this done. Please stop distracting her Mister Cooper."

There was nothing much more that I could say so I gracefully made my retreat, "I can see where I'm not wanted. Ladies, a good night."

I had missed the flyer announcing flying lessons, and to be honest I should have known they were coming up, but I was busy. Something about Hogwarts had rekindled my passion for learning. At least, it rekindled my passion to read every mildly interesting book that I could find. I'd only been here for a week so I hadn't gotten started on the pile of about twenty books I'd already picked out from the library. Obviously I hadn't been able to check them all out, but I'd noted their locations and started a list. They were all low level textbooks, mainly about charms and transfiguration. I had a plan, see, about how to educate myself.

The first three years I would heavily study and practice charms and transfiguration. These were the areas of magic that built and grew upon each other. The theories of low-level transfigurations were building blocks that led to the more complex. Charms was the same way, lower level spells being very similar to their more complex versions. The spell _Carpe Retractum_ , the seize-and-pull charm, was the precursor to the summoning charm. The former was taught in third year and and the latter in fourth. In fourth year I would change my focus to a more Defence Against the Dark Arts oriented one.

Hexes and Curses require power, and focus. Focus I have, but power was another thing. In fact, I probably would not have the power to cast many of the more dangerous curses or hexes by fourth year. I would learn them all the same, so that when the time came I would be ready. Knowledge alone wouldn't save my hide from Death Eaters though, for that I would need experience. Most Death Eaters were criminals, killers with black hearts. In a duel they would be ruthless, using the darkest spells and going for the kill from the outset. I like to think of myself as pragmatic. I fall much more closely towards Spock than Kirk in the whole, good of the many versus good of the one argument. I have not however, killed a person, or even really physically hurt somebody. I wouldn't know until the moment came whether I would be able to snuff out somebody's life. So I wouldn't be getting the experience I needed to survive, I'd just have to do it on the fly.

All of that though, would have to wait, because before I knew I found myself standing on the Hogwarts lawn in the afternoon sun with 20 other kids and the oldest most beat up brooms I have ever seen. Madam Hooch, our flying instructor, was a fit woman with grey hair and hawkish yellow eyes. The speech about broom safety rolled off of her tongue in the way only years of practice would allow her to do. At the end we all stepped up to our brooms and the loud cry of "Up!" filled the air.

It only took me a few tries to get the broom into my hand, and I will always maintain that it was because the broom was old and crappy not because I didn't say up firmly enough. Soon enough we were all mounted up and ready to go and Madam Hooch was giving the final instructions when Neville, the poor boy, started to float away on his broom. Perhaps I should have done something beforehand to reassure him or coach him, but I had limited social cachet with my fellow Slytherins and even talking to Neville was going to make it all disappear. I did feel bad though when he fell through the air and broke his wrist, nobody deserves that.

The expected argument started between Draco and Harry right after Madam Hooch rushed off with Neville to the infirmary. As soon as Draco mounted the broom and flew up into the air I turned my back and went to find Daphne and Tracey. The little blonde was also studiously ignoring the confrontation going on above us but Tracey was watching it avidly. I approached and remarked, "This seems fun and all, but I don't think that we'll be doing any flying today."

Daphne ignored me but Tracey turned her attention away from the flyers, "This is way more exciting! I wonder if they're going to duel on broomsticks!"

Daphne let out an unladylike snort and looked surprised that she'd actually made a sound like that. I graciously ignored it and replied to Tracey, "I doubt that they know any spells they could use like that. What are they going to do, transfigure the twigs on their brooms into needles and throw them at each other?"

She giggled and opened her mouth to say something when a wild cheer went up from the Gryffindor side of the class. Evidently Harry had made a very spectacular save. Tracey spun around and then groaned, "Aww! I missed it! Thanks a lot Michael."

The Gryffindors charged off to meet the descending Harry while the rest of the Slytherins congregated around Draco, already on the ground. Tracey glared at me and then said, "I have to go ask what happened!"

She dashed off towards the Slytherin group leaving Daphne and I alone, just slightly off to the side. I turned to her, "Well, wasn't this exciting. What is your take on it, Miss Greengrass."

She deigned to answer, "Draco obviously decided to do something cruel and tasteless and Potter, being the Gryffindor that he is, set out to stop him. It seems like Potter succeeded."

We were both taken aback for a moment when Professor McGonagall rushed out of the doors to the castle and made a beeline for Harry. We missed whatever was said but as she marched him off towards the castle Daphne commented, "Well, perhaps Draco came out ahead. Nobody will care that Potter caught the Remembrall after whatever punishment Professor McGonagall will give him."

I sighed, "More importantly, we don't have a teacher and there is still twenty more minutes left of this class. Can we leave or are we going to wait out the twenty minutes."

She thought about it for a moment but then the rest of the class stopped dithering and started heading into the castle, "Well, it seems like the others have made a decision. Good. I still have homework that needs to be completed."

I rolled my eyes but followed her as we made our way inside, "It's Friday. Class is over and the weekend is here. Instead of homework let's do something fun tonight. You could teach me how to play exploding snap."

We'd broken off from the Gryffindors and were following the rest of the Slytherins down to our dungeon home when she replied, "Mr. Cooper, whatever makes you think that I _want_ to play games with you."

My comeback was instant, "The fact that after two weeks you still haven't told this lowly muggleborn to beat it."

My self-depreciation didn't get a reaction one way or the other, "And if I were to tell you to leave me alone?"

I shrugged, "I have other friends. It would certainly be a blow to lose the only two positive acquaintances in my own house but I would survive and if you were truly mean-spirited enough to tell me to leave then I would probably be better off. Severing ties with me would be like cutting off your nose to spite your face."

By this time we'd caught up to the rest of the Slytherins and slipped through the entrance of our common room. Everyone broke up to go do their own thing while we headed towards a table in one corner. On the way there she replied to me, "You are certainly nowhere near dear enough to me to use _that_ sort of metaphor Mr. Cooper. Try again."

We reached the table and sat down and I was about to give her some sort of pithy reply when Tracey appeared, "Are you two talking in circles again? You guys are so boring sometime. Come on, let's do something. Oh! We should teach Cooper how to play Exploding Snap! I have a deck in my trunk, I'll be right back!"

The bubbly girl dashed off and I had to carefully keep my face impassive because I'm not sure what Daphne would have done had I laughed at the peeved expression on her face. Instead I blithely said, "As Miss Davis has commanded, so shall we do. You know that if you try and dissuade her she'll beg until we do play."

Daphne's face soured for a moment before she sighed, "Very well. We shall teach you Exploding Snap until dinner, but after that we are doing our homework!"

I was going to take my wins where I could get them so I nodded, "As you say Miss Greengrass."

We played Exploding Snap for a few hours before dinner, and I think Daphne enjoyed herself despite her earlier reticence. I know Tracey and I surely did. Exploding Snap is mostly a game of reflexes and so I only had a few cards explode in my face. Daphne had an almost precognitive sense for when the cards were about to explode an so only had a single pair blow up in her face. It was Tracey who took the lions share of the punishment but I think she enjoyed it nonetheless. After our afternoon of fun we had a leisurely dinner and Daphne put her foot down, so we worked on our homework.

Our little table off in the corner of the common room was far enough away so that the normal humdrum of the common room wouldn't bother us, but Draco Malfoys loud boasting was certainly enough to get our attention. He was sitting in a circle of chairs near us with Pansy Parkinson, Theodore Nott, and his two bookends but was clearly talking to the entire room, "You should have seen the look on their faces. I didn't think Potter would go for it but he showed a bit of that Gryffindor bravery they're always talking about."

Pansy giggled before saying breathlessly, "Are you really going to duel Potter, Draco?"

The boy arrogantly leaned back, snorting, "I could if I wanted to. Merlin knows Potter and Weasley are too stupid to actually know any real magic. No, I left a little note for Filch, telling him where those two would be. They'll go charging off, thinking to find me and run right into Filch. He'll have them in detention until Christmas."

The two bookends chortled while Nott grinned nastily. Pansy kept giggling, "You're so smart Draco. Next time you should really duel with Potter, show him why Purebloods are better."

I couldn't help it, I snorted. Loudly. Malfoy's group obviously heard and they all looked over at us. Their ringleader, superiority written across his face, said loftily, "Do you have something to say? Mudblood."

I let the slur wash over me, "I mean, the thought of you dueling anybody is pretty funny. Do you even know an offensive spell?"

Malfoy stood up abruptly, "Of course I do!"

I stood up slowly, spreading my arms invitingly, "Well then, come on. I'll let you have a free shot. If you can."

It really was too easy to rile him up. He shoved his hand into the pocket of his robe and pulled out his wand. He waved his wand and with a cry of " _Locomotor Mortis!"_ a dull grey beam of light shot out and hit me. I knew what the spell was supposed to do of course, bind my legs together. It didn't really work though. My legs certainly felt stiff but they didn't snap together and I could certainly still move them. With an exaggerated yawn I sat back down, "Maybe with a little more practice you'll be up to dueling somebody. It's probably a good thing you sent Filch after him, he might have embarrassed you otherwise."

Others around the common room were snickering and Malfoy was completely red in the face, "Do you know who I am? Who my father is!"

I shrugged, "You are Draco Malfoy. No I don't know who your father is. You should probably calm down though, you're making a scene."

He'd been so caught up in his anger that he'd missed the others watching. He looked around the common room and then scoffed, "At least I know a spell. I bet you can't even make your wand work."

That made me snort again, "It works fine in class Malfoy. Which is really why we're all here. Instead of plotting against your classmates maybe you should do some homework."

I turned away from him, back to the table, and took in the expressions of my friends as Draco stomped off in a huff. Daphne's face was mildly annoyed but she kept her attention on her homework, studiously scratching away at her Herbology essay. Tracey though had been watching with wide eyes and she whispered, "What in Merlins name was that!"

I let a shit eating grin steal over my face but I was upstaged by the other blonde in the group, "That was Mr. Cooper doing something stupid. Baiting Draco Malfoy never ends well."

I rolled my eyes, "Setting up Harry and Ron like that was pretty mean. Someone needed to bring him down a peg or two."

"It didn't need to be you. He's annoying enough that one of the upper years would have told him off eventually. And really, Harry and Ron? Since when are you on first name terms with two Gryffindors?"

Shrugging I answered her, "Since I hang out with them sometimes. They aren't as big on etiquette as you are."

Daphne looked like she was about to give a hot answer but Tracey butted in, "You know Harry Potter? Oh! Oh! Introduce us!"

The blonde pureblood turned towards her friend, "Tracey Davis! You will not ask him to introduce you to Harry Potter."

Tracey in turn whined back, and I jumped on that pile too. We all forgot about our homework and spent the rest of the evening happily bickering with each other in our little corner.

* * *

I caught up with Harry and Ron the next afternoon. Both of them were inspecting the broom that Harry had received at breakfast in one of the smaller courtyards outside the castle. Harry was flushed, looking pretty windblown like he'd been flying around on it, which I guess he probably had. Ron had a look of unrestrained awe on his face as he practically stroked the broom. I approached them and they didn't even notice me until I said, "Hey fellas. Look's pretty fancy."

Both of them jumped a little but when Harry noticed me he smiled, "Hi Michael. It is pretty cool isn't it."

Ron broke in, "Cool! This is a _Nimbus 2000_! It's the most expensive broom on the market!"

Chuckling I sat down on a bench, "Awesome. Hey, sorry about what Malfoy did yesterday."

Both of them tensed. Ronald asked, "Did you know what he was doing?"

I waved them off, "Not until he was bragging about it in the common room last night. It was too late to warn you by then. I take it you dodged Filch?"

Both of them glanced at each other and shuddered. Harry said lowly, "It was close though. We barely escaped!"

I did kind of feel bad that I hadn't remembered Malfoy would do that, "Well. All's well that ends well. New subject, where'd this sweet broom come from?"

They glanced at each other again, they seemed to do that alot, before Ron whispered, "We think it came from McGonagall!"

I scratched my head, inwardly smiling at how secretive they were trying to be, "Why'd McGonagall get you a broom Harry?"

Ron looked ready to burst when he hissed, "Because Harry is on the Gryffindor Quidditch team!

Harry nudged his shoulder, "Ron! Oliver wanted to keep that a secret!"

The redhead scoffed, "Oh come off it. Michael won't tell anyone, right?"

I grinned, "Yeah, definitely not. How did you get on anyway? First years aren't allowed."

Harry looked bashful, "McGonagall saw me flying yesterday when I caught Neville's Remembrall. When she came and grabbed me I thought I was in a bunch of trouble but she introduced me to Oliver Wood. He's the Gryffindor Quidditch captain and she got me on the team. He taught me how to play today!"

We spent the rest of the afternoon until dinner whiling away the hours. Ron told us about famous Quidditch games and tried to convert us to the cult of Chudley. It was a good way to spend the afternoon. Over the next few weeks I'd hang out with them on weekends. They were pretty fun guys overall. Now, I know some people are thinking why not go make friends with Hermione. She's the brains of their outfit. Well, some things just create a bond between people, things like surviving an encounter with a twelve foot tall troll trying to kill you. I didn't want to take that away from the three of them, they did save Britain after all. It might hurt Hermione a little bit in the short run but in the long run they'd all be better for it.

Most of my time was spent in lessons, and with Daphne and Tracey doing homework, or in the library reading for fun. I even saw Hermione in there a few times. She was always reading and doing homework, going above and beyond what the professors wanted. I wrote my parents every other week or so. I even found some time to practice my violin. I brought it out of my trunk a few times and played in some of the more isolated dungeon rooms. It was a nice bit of home that I'd been missing. Even with all that happens, even with all the magic, Hogwarts is still a school and as such some parts of it are still mundane.

Halloween came around and so to did the fun lesson about levitation charms. I'd looked it up in my charms textbook a few days earlier and practiced it but it just wouldn't come to me. It was only during the lesson, after I'd listened to Flitwick lecture about it, that it somehow clicked in my brain how it was supposed to work. I got it after a few tries. After Hermione of course. I also heard Ron's mean comment and her bursting into tears. Reading about it really doesn't do justice to the devastation on Hermione's face. I heard some of the Slytherin's near my laughing too.

Feeling a bit guilty because I'd let it happen, I went over to Ron and Harry. Both of them already looked guilty so I didn't lay it on too thick, "That wasn't very nice Ron. She was just trying to help you."

He squirmed, "She's always just so full of herself."

I shrugged, "It still wasn't very nice. Maybe you should just get to know her."

The redhead crossed his arms and looked away, "I dunno."

And that was the end of that. Everyone parted ways, we all had other classes to get too. A few hours later the Halloween feast came around and truly it was magnificent. I had a little bit of everything, and really I mean everything. I'd just finished off my last tiny slice of pie when Professor Quirrell burst into the Great Hall, running down the center between the tables screaming, "Troll! Troll in the dungeons!"

He said something else a bit softer and then dramatically fainted. It was actually pretty funny. The entire hall was in an uproar. Daphne and Tracey were across from me and both of them looked terrified. Tracey was practically hyperventilating when Dumbledore yelled across the room, "Silence!"

His demand was answered quickly. The entire hall was instantly silent and he calmly said, "Prefects, lead your houses to the dormitories. The professors and I will go to the dungeons and contain the troll."

All of the teachers quickly exited via a side door while the six prefects of each house desperately tried to corral their charges. A few hundred teens and pre-teens left the Great Hall quickly, all trying to squeeze through the doors at the same time. I stuck close to my two friends as we followed the rest of the stampeding Slytherins down to the dungeons. We made the common room without incident and it seemed like the entire house let out a collective sigh of relief. Then the chatter exploded. The seventh year female prefect, Aileen Selwyn, said authoritatively, "Alright. That's enough for one night. Everyone quiet down. The professors will let us know what happened tomorrow. Everyone just, do your homework or something. Just keep it down."

It took only a few moments for Tracey to grab both Daphne and I to go and claim our usual table. As soon as we'd sat down she hissed, "What just happened! How did a troll get into Hogwarts?"

Daphne shrugged delicately, "I don't know, but I am very perturbed by it. Hogwarts is supposed to be safe and if there are trolls running around in the corridors then It most certainly is not!"

I stroked my chin and non-existent facial hair, "When was the last time something like this happened?"

Daphne thought for a moment and replied, "Never, or at least, I've never heard about it."

I moved my hand down to tap the table with two fingers, "Well… if something like this hasn't happened before then it isn't likely to happen now. My guess would be that somebody let it in."

Tracey's eyes bugged out but Daphne sat back in her seat and nodded slowly. The blonde murmured pensively, "That does make sense, but who would do that?"

I shrugged, "I don't know. Somebody who doesn't like Hogwarts apparently."

I wasn't going to go putting it out there that it was Professor Quirrell, I wasn't even going to mention his name. Even though he really was the most likely suspect. Reporting the troll he let in himself would throw suspicion off of him and I'm sure that nobody had bothered to pick him up in the Great Hall after his fainting spell so he just slithered on out. I knew that he'd gone to the third floor corridor but was stopped by Fluffy. My musings were interrupted by Tracey, her eyes wild, "Maybe it's Death Eaters come to get revenge on Harry Potter by having a troll squash him!"

For a moment it actually looked like Daphne was going to facepalm but she mastered the impulse and instead leveled an imperious look at the brunette, "That is without a doubt the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard you say."

Tracey continued on though and soon enough she'd dug herself into a hole so deep she couldn't climb out. Her wild theories and gesticulations amused us for a bit before she yawned, "Merlin. Solving mysteries takes a lot out of me. It's late anyways, I think I'm going to go to bed."

I answered her gravely, "Of course Miss Davis. Without you we never would have known that a Belgian vampire coven allied with Italian werewolves had banded together to invade Hogwarts and steal the Headmasters robes to destroy the source of his powers."

She stuck her tongue out at me in response, " Don't mock me Cooper. I was just thinking out loud."

I couldn't clamp down on the bark of laughter that left my mouth, "Please Tracey, think out loud all you want. It's vastly more amusing than anything here."

Daphne, who'd been watching the exchange, stood up abruptly, "Come Tracey. Let's go to bed. The excitement of tonight has obviously caused Mr. Cooper to forget his manners."

She dragged Tracey off while I looked on, bemused. I knew I'd broken one of Daphne's etiquette rules by calling Tracey by her given name without her permission, but I'd figured she wouldn't get _that_ upset about it. Oh well. Bed sounded like a good idea anyways. The faster I went to sleep, the faster I could wake up, and the faster I could find out what happened to Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

The next day I had to go through classes alone. Daphne was still in a snit and Tracey had followed her, shooting me a half apologetic, half commiserating look. I'd shrugged it off, because I wasn't going to let being snubbed by an 11 year old aristocrat bother me, and tried to find the Gryffindors. It was only after dinner that I found them, returning to Gryffindor tower. I saw Harry's wild hair from behind flanked by Ron's red and Hermiones bushy brown and hailed them, "Oi! Harry. Ron!"

All three of them turned to look at me and then slowed down so that I could catch up with them.

"Wild night last night eh?

Harry and Ron glanced at each other while Hermione asked bluntly, "Who are you?"

"Ah, let me introduce myself. Michael Cooper, at your service."

I held out my hand and she shook it replying in kind, "Hermione Granger, nice to meet you."

I chuckled internally, no stuffy pureblood etiquette there. I responded, "Likewise. So what are you doing hanging around with these guys. Last I heard there were some pretty nasty words exchanged."

Ron had the grace to look embarrassed and Hermione pinked a little bit, "Well. We've moved past it now."

I gave Ron a gimlet eye, "And did Ronald apologize to you?"

The pink in Hermione's cheeks spread a bit further, "Yes he did. It was a very nice apology."

I nodded once, "Good. I thought I was going to have to defend your honor or something."

Harry snorted and looked like he was trying not to laugh when Hermione said primly, "I can defend my own honor, thank you."

Unlike Harry, I let out my own laughter, "Good for you. What's got you hanging around with them though. Even if he apologized, what he said was still pretty mean."

Instead of looking embarrassed like he had before, a bit of red was starting to crawl up Ron's neck and seep into his ears, even as Hermione replied, "Yes. He was mean. But Ronald and Harry came and… helped me afterwards. We made up, and are now friends."

I noticed the pause in her speech and pressed her, "Oh? They helped you? How'd that happen."

She looked conflicted and was waffling on what to say when Harry cut in, "Hermione was in the bathroom last night when the Troll got into the castle. We went to tell her about it but the Troll was already there. We kind of… fought the troll and then Ron knocked it out with its own club. The professors came then, and luckily we didn't get in trouble"

I was suitably awed, "Whoa! You guys fought a troll! You're pulling my leg."

Ron nodded fiercely while Harry and Hermione took turns telling the story a bit more completely than Harry had already told me. I nodded along and ooh'd and ahh'd at all the appropriate moments before saying, "So. Does that mean I have to fight a troll to be your friend too Miss Granger?"

Her cheeks pinked again, "Of course not Michael. We can be friends if you'd like."

I smiled at her, "Well, any friend of Harry and Ron's is a friend of mine. What do you say?"

She smiled back, "Of course Michael, I'd like that."


End file.
